It Could Have Been Like This
by Miss Anonymous hp
Summary: Alternate Universe - Peter Pettigrew never became a Death Eater. Now all four of the Marauders have children and they have begun their own adventure inside of the Hogwarts. First book complete. TO BE REWRITTEN.
1. Chapter One: The First Month

**Summary:** Peter Pettigrew never became a Death Eater and Voldemort continued to live. Inside Hogwarts, the world seems like a peaceful place, but outside of it, the Wizarding World is in chaos. The Marauders' offspring, Harry Potter, Polaris Black, Sasha Pettigrew, and Rosalyn Lupin, go to Hogwarts expecting seven peaceful years full of pranks and spells. What they receive, however, is an ongoing adventure they'll never forget. It follows the books closely.   
  


**It Could Have Been Like This   
Chapter One: The First Month**

  
  
Sasha Pettigrew rubbed her knuckles and glared at the back of the retreating blond. She felt somebody thumping her on the back and turned to grin at Polaris Black and Harry Potter both of whom were recounting her spectacular punch. She turned to her other side where Rosalyn "Rory" Lupin had her arms crossed over her chest trying to look stern, but failing as a small smile tugged at her lips.   
  
"Move along now," said a sharp voice to the ghost that had been floating above them and many first years whirled around to see Professor McGonagall standing there. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."   
  
One by one, the ghosts floated through the opposite wall.   
  
"Now form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."   
  
Harry got into line behind a boy with bright red hair, Rory and Sasha were behind him, and then Polaris took up the rear in front of a pug-faced girl. They walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.   
  
Many of the first years immediately looked up at the ceiling and saw there wasn't one that they could see. All there was velvety black with twinkling stars winking at him. Rory whispered to no one in particular, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, a History._"   
  
Harry looked toward the front as Professor McGonagall sat down a four-legged stool and placed a hat on top of it. Harry tilted his head to one side. His father had told him something about having to ride a hippogriff to Hogsmeade and back. What did a hat have to do with that?   
  
For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth—and the hat began to sing. Harry blinked at it and his mouth was hanging open by the end of it. All he had to do was try on a hat? He was going to kill his dad for putting ideas in his head.   
  
Behind him he heard Polaris hissing in Rory's ear, "We put on a hat and then we're sorted? Your dad said something about taming the Whomping Willow."   
  
Rory giggled.   
  
Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"   
  
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.   
  
"Black, Polaris!"   
  
Polaris stepped forward. He had black hair that lay flatly on his head with his fringe falling into his grey eyes. He was tall (but not taller then the redheaded kid in front of Harry) and only slightly tanned. He put on the hat, which fell right over his eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause—   
  
"Ah," said a small voice in his ear. "Another Black I see—another rebel. Just like your father, there's no doubt about that. Particularly trustworthy, I see, with an ounce of cunning—both qualities of Hufflepuff and Slytherin…"   
  
_Not Slytherin,_ he thought desperately, _Hufflepuff's fine! Just not Slytherin!_   
  
"Yes, your mother was in Hufflepuff, I see that now. Yes, but that's not exactly right for you. I think there's only one place you'd be truly happy and that'd be GRYFFINDOR!"   
  
The table on the left cheered and clapped as Polaris went to sit down at the Gryffindor table.   
  
"Bones, Susan!"   
  
"HUFFLEPUFF!" and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.   
  
"Boot, Terry" and "Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw, but "Brown, Lavender" joined Polaris at the Gryffindor table and a set of twin redheads cat-called at her.   
  
"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. The three friends still in line shared a look and they mentally agreed. The Slytherins looked like an unpleasant lot.   
  
Rory squirmed where she stood knowing that she was the next out of her friends to go up and try on the hat. She chewed her lip and rocked on her feet as "Finnigan, Seamus" became a Gryffindor.   
  
"Granger, Hermione!"   
  
Hermione seemed like a very confident girl as she ran up to the stool and eagerly jammed the hat on her head.   
  
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.   
  
A horrible thought struck Rory, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if you had to be extremely confident to become a Gryffindor? Polaris was always confident; Lavender Brown hadn't seemed at frightened; Seamus Finnigan had looked extremely curious; and Hermione Granger was just eager. What if she was the only one out of her friends to not go to Gryffindor?   
  
When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. After nearly a minute going on two, the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"   
  
"Lupin, Rosalyn!" said Professor McGonagall.   
  
Rory had lots of brown hair which usually turned into a tangled mess. At the moment it was pulled back into a very messy ponytail just so that it would stay out of her amber eyes. She was as tall as Harry with olive skin from her Italian decent. Around her nose, however, she had a few freckles that definitely came from her mother.   
  
She walked up toward the stool where Neville was just jumping off the stool. She was about to reach for the hat when he ran off with it. Rory felt very embarrassed as she waited for Neville to come back up to the front to give her the hat so she could try it on. She caught Polaris's eye and he gave her a thumbs-up. She took a deep breath, accepted the hat from Neville with a small "thank you" and placed it on her head.   
  
"Oh," said the Sorting Hat. "A difficult one we have here, do we?"   
  
_I'm not difficult,_ thought Rory stubbornly.   
  
The hat chuckled in her ear. "Of course not—just horribly stubborn, no use in denying it, dear. It's all here in your mind—which isn't a very bad one from what I can see. In fact, I can see that you are exceptionally bright. Ah, but there's bravery there!—and an ounce of recklessness that both your father and mother had if I remember correctly. Yes, both qualities that does well in GRYFFINDOR!"   
  
Rory sighed in relief as she removed the hat from her head and gave it to "MacDougal, Morag."   
  
Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called. His jaw was already turning an odd purplish colour and Sasha grinned happily as she glanced down at her slowly bruising knuckles. She shrugged and glanced up as Harry looked over his shoulder and smirked at her. She smirked back as Malfoy got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"   
  
There weren't many people left now.   
  
"Moon"… "Nott"… "Parkinson…, then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"…, then "Perks, Sally-Anne"…, and then, at last—   
  
"Pettigrew, Sasha!"   
  
Sasha was a very petite girl—the smallest one in her year it seemed in fact—with very light blond hair and watery blue eyes. She had a round face with chubby cheeks that were layered with a natural blush that most babies have right after they're born.   
  
One moment she was gazing at the watching students; next second she was looking at the black inside of a hat. She decided that it wasn't very interesting.   
  
"My inside isn't very interesting? Well, I've never given it much thought, but I suppose it is rather dull."   
  
_You should put some colour in,_ thought Sasha fondly.   
  
"Perhaps I will, but we're here for a purpose. Let's look at you. Aha… very loyal, I see. Not one to give up either. You'd make a good Hufflepuff."   
  
_That's what you said to my dad,_ she thought to the hat.   
  
"Yes, and then I found—Right, exactly what I thought. You have the same hidden bravery that your father had. I know just where to put you, but before I sort you, do let me compliment you on the hit you gave that boy before the Sorting Ceremony."   
  
Sasha felt herself grin. _Thank you._   
  
"You're quite welcome. Have fun in GRYFFINDOR!"   
  
_I will,_ she thought as she jumped off the stool and held out the hat to "Potter, Harry" who was the next to be sorted. She grinned at him before running off.   
  
Harry had very messy black hair that was impossible to keep tidy. He wore black-rimmed glasses and many would say that he was a mini-replica of his father with his mother's emerald green eyes. He took a deep breath and put the hat on his head as he sat down. He waited.   
  
"Hmm," said a voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes—and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting… So where shall I put you?"   
  
Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin._   
  
"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that—no? Well, if you're sure—better be GRYFFINDOR!"   
  
The Sorting ended with "Zabini, Blaise" becoming a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up the parchment and took the Sorting Hat away.   
  
Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at his students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have please him more than to see them all there.   
  
"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!   
  
"Thank you!"   
  
He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered and the four friends gasped as suddenly all of the dishes piled with food. The two boys piled their plates high while the two girls rolled their eyes and piled their plates with respectable amounts.   
  
"Hello," said the ghost in ruff smiling. "I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."   
  
"I know who you are!" said the redheaded boy that had stood in front of Harry, Ron, suddenly. "My brothers told me about you—you're Nearly Headless Nick!"   
  
"I would _prefer_ you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy—" the ghost began stiffly, but oblivious Sasha interrupted.   
  
"Excuse me? I was just wondering. How can you be _Nearly_ Headless?"   
  
Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if he wanted to snap at her for interrupting him, but decided against it as she had asked so politely. He sighed and said, "Like this." He seized his left ear and pulled. The new Gryffindors were stunned to say the least.   
  
The desserts appeared a little while later. As Rory was piling her plate with chocolate cake and ice cream, Sasha was piling her plate with apple pie, Polaris was piling his plate with rice pudding, and Harry was piling his with treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.   
  
"I'm half-and-half, I guess," said Sasha smiling. "My dad's a wizard and my mum is a Squib who grew up around magic—both her parents and sisters were all magical. He didn't know about her being a Squib until after they were engaged. It was just a little shocking to say the least."   
  
The others laughed.   
  
"What about you, Neville?" said Polaris.   
  
"Not much to say," said Neville shrugging. "Both of my parents are magical—both of them were Gryffindors in the same year and went into the Auror Academy together. For the longest time they thought I was a squib, but when I was eight I was locked out of the house and I was so desperate the lock undid itself and I was able to get inside. My parents were so pleased when I told them. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here—they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."   
  
At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.   
  
"Ahem—just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."   
  
Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling in the direction of the Weasley twins.   
  
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."   
  
The four friends exchanged curious looks.   
  
"And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"   
  
They followed Percy through many, many corridors only stopping once because of Peeves, the school poltergeist. They finally came to a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress at the very end of a corridor.   
  
"Password?" she said.   
  
"Caput Draconis," said Percy. The portrait swung forward to reveal a round hold in the wall. They all scrambled through it—Sasha ended up tripping over Neville and they both needed help up—and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room.   
  
Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory which Rory and Sasha disappeared through with five other girls and the boys through another which Harry and Polaris disappeared through with four other boys. Once they found their dorm room they saw their trunks had been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pyjamas and fell into bed.   
  
The next day the four young Marauders tried to find their way around the castle. The castle had many staircases of all sizes and shapes, doors that vanished and locked, and statues and paintings that liked to move around. The ghosts didn't help much either with their lies; only Nearly Headless Nick was willing to help lost Gryffindors. Peeves was just as bad as their first night always coming up behind you and grabbing your nose while shouting, "GOT YOUR CONK!"   
  
The caretaker, Argus Filch, was even worse than Peeves. He had no sympathy for lost students and always assumed that they were up to no good. Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris who was wicked fast in bringing Filch to a sign of trouble if you put one toe out of line. Harry and Polaris knew they weren't the only ones wishing to give Mrs. Norris a good kick.   
  
Then there were the classes themselves.   
  
Astronomy was held on Wednesday at midnight to study the night skies through their telescopes. Three times a week they studied Herbology with Professor Sprout. The most boring class, easily, was History of Magic with Professor Binns, the only professor that was a ghost. None of the Marauders were particularly talented in any of these classes.   
  
Sasha's favourite class was Charms and everyone could tell that she had a knack in it. It seemed to be the only class that she had a knack in, however, as she struggling in every other class. Professor Flitwick easily favoured her out of all of his students which made Hermione Granger irritated and amused Rory to no end.   
  
Polaris's best class was without a doubt Transfiguration. On the first day, he had been able to fully turn his matchstick into a needle right before the end of class earning the first of Professor McGonagall's rare smiles. The Marauders' first impression of Professor McGonagall was a teacher who you do not want to cross. By the end of the first class, they knew that they were right.   
  
Harry seemed to favour Defence Against the Dark Arts, however. Even though the teacher, Professor Quirrell, was a complete joke everyone could tell that if given the chance, Harry would excel in the class. For study reasons, or so he said, the four Marauders began to study Defence independently and as they had guessed, Harry was very good at it.   
  
The weirdest thing out of all of them, however, was the fact that Rory's best and favourite class was the class that she got the worst grades in: Potions. The Potions Master, Professor Snape, seemed to dislike the Marauders the second they stepped into the room. Even before the end of class, they knew they had been wrong. Snape didn't dislike them, he _hated_. them. Even with this little disadvantage, Rory was still the best at Potions in the whole class. Every time she would complete a Potion, however, Snape would call it 'dumb luck' and give her an Acceptable on an Outstanding worthy Potion.   
  
On the Friday after their first week they all went down to visit Hagrid. They knocked on the door and heard Hagrid's voice from inside saying, "_Back,_ Fang—_back!_"   
  
"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang who bounded straight at Polaris and started licking his ears. Polaris grimaced.   
  
Sasha, who was the only to have met Hagrid before as he had been the one to take her to Diagon Alley (her mother was a Muggle and her father had been out of town on Ministry business), said, "This is Harry, Polaris, and Rosalyn or Rory as we call her."   
  
"A Potter, Black, and Lupin to top off the Marauder package, eh?" said Hagrid grinning at them as poured them tea and put rock cakes onto their plates. "I spent half me life chasin' yer fathers away from the forest."   
  
The four Marauders grinned. The rock cakes were just as they were called—rocks that nearly broke their teeth, but the four of them pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons.   
  
Rory told Hagrid about Snape's first lesson. Hagrid, unlike Harry, Polaris, and Sasha, told Rory not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.   
  
"But he seemed to really _hate_ us."   
  
"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"   
  
Yet, as they four Marauders glanced at each other, they all silently agreed on the same thing—Hagrid didn't quite meet her eyes when he said that.   
  
"How's your father?" Hagrid asked Polaris. "I liked him a lot—great with animals."   
  
With another glance, they agreed that he had changed the subject on purpose but Polaris began to tell Hagrid anyway about his father's retired career as an Auror and his new job as a Winged Horse trainer, and how he snuck in a few Muggle horses into their paddock as well last summer. Sasha picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cosy. It was a cutting from the _Daily Prophet_.   
  
After reading it through, Sasha gasped, "Hagrid! That Gringotts break-in happened on Harry's birthday—the day we were at Diagon Alley! It might've been happening while we were there!"   
  
There was no doubt about it, as the Marauders glanced at each other again, Hagrid definitely didn't meet Sasha's eye this time. As the four Marauders walked back up to the castle for dinner, they questioned Sasha on what happened while she was Diagon Alley.   
  
"Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen—if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package—that's all there was in there!" said Sasha.   
  
"What if that was what the thieves were looking for?" suggested Polaris slowly.   
  
"Then Hagrid got that package out of there just in time," said Rory logically.   
  
"I wonder what it could be," mused Harry aloud.   
  
"I wonder why Hagrid wouldn't tell us why Snape hated us so," countered Rory. They four Marauders looked at each other and nodded. There was just too much to wonder about.   
  
That following week flying lessons was to start and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together. This was a bad thing because the Marauders all agreed when it came to the fact that they would live happily ever after if they never had to see Draco Malfoy again, but this was a good thing as all four of the Marauders loved to fly. At least they thought they did until the morning of the flying lessons when they found Rory sitting on the Gryffindor table, pale, and not eating.   
  
"Hey, Rory, what's wrong?" asked Polaris. "Be happy, it's Flying Lessons this morning!"   
  
She looked positively ill at the thought.   
  
"What's wrong, Rory?" asked Sasha sympathetically. "You've been flying your whole life; there's nothing to worry about!"   
  
Rory stabbed her bacon and mumbled something.   
  
"Sorry, didn't catch that," said Sasha pleasantly.   
  
"I said, 'No I haven't'."   
  
"No you haven't what? Flown your whole life?"   
  
Rory nodded.   
  
"Yes you have," Harry began to counter but was interrupted.   
  
"Have you _ever_ seen me fly?"   
  
All three of them opened their mouth to answer but stopped short. They looked between each other and then slowly shook their head.   
  
"I'm… I'm…" She went pink. "I'm deathly afraid of heights," she mumbled.   
  
"But—but, I mean…" Polaris began, "Really?"   
  
Rory nodded, miserable.   
  
"That's okay," said Polaris after a short silence. "We're all afraid of something—Gryffindor or not."   
  
Rory gave him a thankful smile. Any further reassurance was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.   
  
A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his mother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.   
  
"I know what that is!" said Sasha with the same enthusiasm that Neville was showing. "That's a Remembrall! Dad gave me one for my birthday two years ago. I always carry it around with me—" She stuffed her hand in her pocket, and then in the other pocket, both coming up empty-handed. "Oh," she said looking slightly dejected, "I suppose I forgot it."   
  
Neville gave her a small smile and explained to the other onlookers, "This tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red—oh…" His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "…you've forgotten something…"   
  
"The only problem is," said Sasha giving Neville the same small smile he had given her a moment before, "is that it's hard to remember what you've forgotten!"   
  
Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.   
  
Harry and Polaris jumped to their feet, but Professor McGonagall quickly appeared.   
  
"What's going on?"   
  
"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."   
  
Scowling, Malfoy dropped the Remembrall back on the table.   
  
"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.   
  
At three-thirty that afternoon, the Marauders and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground.   
  
Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived.   
  
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up. Stick out your right hand over broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"   
  
"UP!" everyone shouted.   
  
Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was of the few that did. Polaris's, much to his annoyance, had simply rolled over on the ground, and both Neville's and Rory's hadn't moved at all. Neville's voice was quavering and Rory was trembling from head to foot; both of them looked terrified at the thought of leaving the ground.   
  
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," sad Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle—three—two—"   
  
But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.   
  
"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising higher and higher—twenty feet—before sliding sideways and—   
  
WHAM—a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.   
  
"Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter. "Come on, boy—it's all right, up you get."   
  
She turned to the rest of the class.   
  
"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."   
  
No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.   
  
"Did you see his face, the great lump?"   
  
The other Slytherins joined in.   
  
"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Sasha, and from the way her eyes flashed you could tell that she was ready to hit him again. Apparently he could tell that she was angry because he didn't say anything, but the other Slytherins didn't know that it had been her who had punched him.   
  
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought _you'd_ like fat little cry-babies, Sasha."   
  
"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's mum sent him."   
  
"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly.   
  
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find—how about—up a tree?"   
  
"Give it _here!_" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off.   
  
He hovered and called back to them, "Come and get it, Potter!"   
  
"_No!_" shouted Hermione Granger and Rory.   
  
"Don't you dare—you could get expelled!" said Rory.   
  
"Madam Hooch told us not to move—you'll get us all into trouble!" cried Hermione.   
  
Harry ignored them both. He jumped on his broom and flew up higher and higher until he was level with Malfoy. Then, with a sharp turn, he faced Malfoy who looked more than a little worried.   
  
"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"   
  
"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer but failing.   
  
He shot at Malfoy like a bullet and the other boy only just got out of the way in time.   
  
"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called.   
  
The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.   
  
"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.   
  
Harry raced after the ball watching as it fell closer and closer to the ground—he wasn't going to make it—it was going to smash into the ground—but a foot from the patchy grass, he caught it tightly in his fist and toppled gently onto the ground.   
  
"HARRY POTTER!"   
  
His heart sank. Professor McGonagall was running toward him.   
  
"_Never_—in all my time at Hogwarts—how _dare_ you—might have broken your neck—"   
  
"It wasn't his fault, Professor—"   
  
"Be quiet, Miss Pettigrew—"   
  
"But Malfoy—"   
  
"That's _enough,_ Mr. Black. Potter, follow me, now."   
  
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were grinning triumphantly as Harry walked off. He followed her through the corridors neither saying a word until they stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.   
  
"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"   
  
Wood turned out to be a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused.   
  
"Follow me, you two," said Professor McGonagall. "In here." Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard. "Out, Peeves!" she barked.   
  
McGonagall slammed the door behind the retreating and cursing Peeves and turned to face the two boys. "Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood—I've found you a Seeker."   
  
Harry eyes widened as he looked up quickly.   
  
"Are you serious, Professor?" asked Wood, his voice dripping with delight.   
  
"Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "The boy's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Do you ride a broomstick often, Potter?"   
  
Harry made a silent gesture that meant sometimes, his heart thumping in his chest.   
  
"He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive," Professor McGonagall told Wood. "Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it."   
  
"Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" Wood asked excitedly.   
  
Harry nodded eagerly.   
  
"Wood's the captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explained.   
  
"He's just the build for a Seeker, too," said Wood, walking around Harry. "Light—speedy—we'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor—a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say."   
  
"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule and if he says yes, Potter, you'll need to send an owl to your father asking for one. I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may changed my mind about punishing you," she said sternly. Suddenly, she smiled. "Your father will be so proud," she said. "He was an excellent Quidditch Player himself."   
  
"You're not _serious!_"   
  
It was dinnertime. Harry had just finished telling Polaris, Rory, and Sasha what had happened when he left the ground with Professor McGonagall.   
  
"_Seeker?_" said Polaris in awe. "But first years _never_—you must be the youngest house player in about—"   
  
"—a century," said Harry. "Wood told me. I start training next week. "Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret."   
  
Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Harry, and hurried over.   
  
"Well done," said George in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too—Beaters."   
  
"Anyway, we've got to go; Lee Jordon reckons he's found a secret passageway out of the school."   
  
"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."   
  
Fred and George had just disappeared when Malfoy and his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, showed up.   
  
"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggle-lovers?"   
  
"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you."   
  
"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight—wizard's duel—wands only—no contact."   
  
Polaris wheeled around. "We take on your challenge. I'm his second, who's yours?"   
  
"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight, all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."   
  
When Malfoy had gone, Rory and Sasha groaned and looked at the two boys across from them.   
  
"You can't go out—Harry, Polaris—you just can't!" cried Rory.   
  
"And why not?" snapped Polaris.   
  
"You'll get Gryffindor into trouble if you get caught!" said Sasha.   
  
"We won't get caught," said Harry simply.   
  
"Harry, you of all people shouldn't be going out tonight—"   
  
"And why is that?"   
  
"—after you were just expelled only a few hours before! What if you are caught? What then? Not only will you lose your position as Seeker, you'll most likely be _expelled._"   
  
"It's really none of your business," said Harry standing up.   
  
"Good-bye," said Polaris as he followed him.   
  
At half-past eleven, once they were sure that Dean, Seamus, and Ron were fast sleep, Harry and Polaris in bathrobes of green and blue snuck downstairs and were about to go out through the portrait when they heard a familiar voice from behind them.   
  
"I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry."   
  
A lamp flickered on. Rosalyn Lupin stood at the doorway to the Girls' staircase, her hair in a messy bun that was already falling out and wearing a scarlet bathrobe and a frown.   
  
"_Rory!_" said Polaris furiously. "Go back to bed!"   
  
Ignoring her, Harry said, "Come on." He walked through the Portrait hole with Polaris behind him, but Rory followed them out hissing how stupid they were being.   
  
"Go away!" snapped Polaris as they went to turn into the next corridor. They stopped suddenly because they saw someone pacing in the moonlight. The person was too small to be a teacher, and almost too small to even be a first year…   
  
"_Sasha!_ Not you too," groaned Polaris.   
  
"What about me?" asked Sasha confused. She turned to face them and her face lit up when she saw who it was. She was standing there with her hair in two perfect ponytails and in a light pink bathrobe. "The Fat Lady isn't in her Portrait—hasn't been for about an hour—I can't get into the common room—"   
  
Whatever else Sasha was going to say was cut off by Rory's moan, "Oh _no!_ Now what am I going to do?"   
  
"I don't know and I don't care," snapped Polaris. "Harry and I have a duel to get to, so if you'll excuse us—"   
  
They had barely got to the end of the corridor when both of the girls caught up with them. "We're coming with you," they announced.   
  
"You are _not!_" hissed Harry furiously.   
  
But it was a lost battle as the girls continued to follow him anyway. Malfoy and Crabbe weren't at the trophy room yet. All four of them had their wand out just in case Malfoy decided to do a surprise attack on any of them knowing that he probably wouldn't care that either Rory or Sasha weren't in this duel.   
  
Ten minutes later, Polaris checked his watch impatiently, and opened his mouth say something when Rory hissed at him to be quiet. Her eyes were just widening and she looked like she was going to flee the room when they heard what she heard.   
  
"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."   
  
It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris.   
  
Harry was going to signal for everybody to follow him, but he saw that Rory was already leading them out the opposite door. He followed her and Sasha's bathrobe was barely whipping around the corer when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.   
  
"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding."   
  
They continued wordlessly down the corridor. They stopped suddenly to peer around a corner and Sasha stubbed her toe—though quietly—on a statue of a swordsman. She began to hop on one foot mouthing obscenities until she hopped into Polaris who had been looking the other and both of them toppled into a suit of armour.   
  
The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.   
  
"RUN!" Harry yelled and four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following. They ran along a hidden passageway that had been behind a tapestry and came out near the Charms classroom.   
  
"I think we've lost him," Harry panted.   
  
Harry shot a look at Rory to see if she was going to say anything, but she was leaning against the wall clutching her chest and breathing deeply. Harry was deeply glad for her silence.   
  
"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," said Polaris, "quickly as possible."   
  
"Let's go," said Harry and they set off again. They had hardly gone a dozen paces, however, when Peeves shot out of classroom in front of them. Sasha gave a surprised squeak which alerted their presence to him.   
  
He grinned at them and then, without any warning, burst into song.   
  
"POTTY WEE POTTER, LOOPY LUPIN, BLACK THE BLACKJACK, AND PETTIGREW SMETTIGREW! MARAUDERS DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR! OH WHATEVER SHALL WE DO?!"   
  
"This is _not_ good!" shrieked Rory and throwing all caution to the wind she ran right under Peeves and slammed into a door—it was locked. The others followed her just as she was whipping out her wand and pointing it at the door, "_Alohomora!_"   
  
The door swung open and they through it shutting it right behind them and pressed their ears against it, listening.   
  
"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick, tell me."   
  
"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.   
  
"All right—_please._"   
  
"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!" And they heard the sound of whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.   
  
"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered. "I think we'll be okay—get _off,_ Sasha! _What?_"   
  
Harry turned around the same time as Rory and Polaris and saw, quite clearly, what. They were standing in a corridor—the forbidden corridor on the third floor—and they were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous three-headed dog.   
  
The dog was getting over the shock that had kept it from tearing them to part in the first place. They all gasped and then screamed as one as Harry blindly groped for the doorknob. The tumbled backwards and could hear the monstrous barks even as they slammed the door shut and relocked it. They then ran all the way back to the Gryffindor tower to the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.   
  
"Pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.   
  
"Why in the wizarding world do they have thing like that locked up in a school?" said Polaris finally. "That dog could have easily eaten us!"   
  
"I think that was the point," gasped Sasha.   
  
"You don't use your eyes, do you?" Rory snapped, catching all of them by surprise. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"   
  
"Standing on?" repeated Harry. "I was a bit more preoccupied with its heads! Unless you've forgotten, there were three!"   
  
"It was standing on a trap door," said Rory. "It's guarding something."   
  
"Guarding something?" Harry and Polaris repeated at the same time.   
  
"Yes, guarding something and I think we may know what it is." She shot a significant glance toward Sasha and their eyes widened.   
  
"You don't think…?" started Sasha, but Rory cut her off.   
  
"That's exactly what I think." She then turned, grabbed a very pale Sasha by the arm, and began to march off when she stopped halfway and turned toward the boys again. "Oh, and I _told_ you it was going to be a trap." Then she disappeared up the Girls' staircase.   
  
Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry and Polaris were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful. The four Marauders spent the morning wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.   
  
"It's probably really valuable," said Sasha happily.   
  
"Or really dangerous," added Polaris grinning.   
  
"Or both," said Harry.   
  
Rory tried to look up valuable and dangerous objects that were only about two inches long, but she wasn't having much luck without any more clues to fallback on. That morning a letter from Professor McGonagall was delivered to Harry telling him that his first training session would be that night at seven o'clock and that Professor Dumbledore had agreed to let him get a broom so he now needed to owl his father asking for one.   
  
"I'm going to ask Dad for a Nimbus Two Thousand!" announced Harry, unable to hide his glee.   
  
Practice that night was mainly talk about strategy as Harry already knew all about Quidditch. They didn't practice with the Snitch that night for fear of losing it in the dark. Instead, Wood had brought along a small bag of ordinary golf balls. Wood was throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Harry to catch. Harry didn't miss a single one, and Wood was delighted. After half an hour, night had really fallen and they couldn't carry on.   
  
"That Quidditch cup'll have our name on it this year," said Wood happily as they trudged back up to the castle. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons." 


	2. Chapter Two: Halloween, Quidditch, and C...

**Summary:** Peter Pettigrew never became a Death Eater and Voldemort continued to live. Inside Hogwarts, the world seems like a peaceful place, but outside of it, the Wizarding World is in chaos. The Marauders' offspring, Harry Potter, Polaris Black, Sasha Pettigrew, and Rosalyn Lupin, go to Hogwarts expecting seven peaceful years full of pranks and spells. What they receive, however, is an ongoing adventure they'll never forget. It follows the books closely.   
  


**It Could Have Been Like This  
Chapter Two: Halloween, Quidditch, and Christmas**

  
  
It was a surprise to all of them when they woke up Halloween morning and realized that they had already been at school for two months. Harry's dad had long since bought him a Nimbus Two Thousand and it was easily the best broom on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.   
  
In Charms that morning, Professor Flitwick put them into pairs and told them that they would be learning the Levitation Charm. Harry's partner was Seamus Finnigan, Rory and Polaris were lucky enough to be paired together, and Sasha got stuck with Neville though she looked exceptionally thrilled by this.   
  
"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too—never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."   
  
Seamus ended up setting fire to his feather, though Harry didn't do much better. Sasha at the next table was having much better luck and a moment later her feather went sailing into the air.   
  
"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Pettigrew's done it!"   
  
Harry smiled and looked behind him where Rory and Polaris sat. He was surprised to see that they were glaring at each other.   
  
"Fine," said Rory impatiently. "Figure it out yourself, but I'm telling you—you are going to get _nowhere_ doing it the way you are!"   
  
"If you're _such_ a bloody genius, then you do it," Polaris snarled.   
  
Rory looked like she wanted to retort, but instead rolled up her sleeves, flicked her wand, and said, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"   
  
Their feather raised off the desk the same time that Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley's did and hovered about four feet above their heads.   
  
Polaris was in a very bad mood by the end of the class.   
  
"It's no wonder the only people she hangs out with is us," he said to Harry and Sasha as they pushed their way into a crowded corridor, having been told to go ahead by Rory who wanted to stay behind and ask Flitwick a question, "she's completely horrible, honestly."   
  
Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past them, someone with loads of dark brown hair—Rosalyn Lupin. Harry caught a glimpse of her face—and was startled to see that she was in tears.   
  
"I think she heard you."   
  
"So?" said Polaris, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "Not like I care."   
  
"Oh!" shrieked Sasha. "You are an insensitive git, you know that!"   
  
She began to march off, but Harry caught her by the arm. "You can't! We have Herbology next—you don't have time you find her in this mess."   
  
Sasha opened her mouth to argue, but finally agreed. Rory didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. They were just sitting down at the Halloween feast when they heard Parvati Patil telling Lavender Brown that Rory was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone. Sasha glared at Polaris who looked even more uncomfortable at this news, but the moment the food arrived, the awkwardness seemed to have past.   
  
"I'm going to stock up on candy to give to Rory after the feast," Sasha told the two boys across from her. "You two better as well, because you _are_ apologizing, Polaris."   
  
Polaris didn't object and obediently began to stuff candy into his pockets as well. They were just starting to serve themselves when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, terror on his face. He slumped against the table in front of the headmaster and gasped, "Troll—in the dungeons—thought you ought to know." He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.   
  
There was uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.   
  
"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"   
  
"How could a troll get in?" Sasha asked as they followed Percy Weasley up the stairs.   
  
"Not on its own; trolls are supposed to be really stupid," said Harry.   
  
"Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke?" suggested Polaris.   
  
"Some joke," muttered Sasha.   
  
They were just manoeuvring their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs when Harry stuck out both of his arms and grabbed Sasha and Polaris by their sleeves. They turned to face him confused and saw that he had gone a sickly green.   
  
"I just thought—Rory!"   
  
Sasha's eyes went wide. "She doesn't know!"   
  
"Oh, all right," sighed Polaris. "Come on."   
  
He ducked into a crowd of Hufflepuffs going the opposite direction. They had just taken refuge into a deserted corridor that led to the girls' bathroom when they heard quick footsteps behind them. They ducked behind a large stone griffin. Peering around it, they saw Snape as he crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.   
  
"What's he doing?" Harry whispered. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"   
  
"I don't know," said Polaris just as curious.   
  
They followed him.   
  
"He's heading for the third floor," Harry said, but Polaris held up his hand.   
  
"Can you smell something?"   
  
"Doesn't matter, come on!"   
  
They began to follow Snape again until they looked behind them and noticed that Sasha hadn't moved.   
  
"_Sasha!_" hissed Polaris. "Come on."   
  
"The troll's left the dungeon…" she said faintly.   
  
Both boys stared at her as she slowly turned to face them; she was as pale as death.   
  
"…and has taken refuge in the girls' bathroom."   
  
Right on a cue they heard something that made their hearts stop—a high, petrified scream. Harry and Polaris looked at each other.   
  
"_Rory!_" they said together.   
  
They sprinted to the room that they easily knew held the troll because of the banging and clanging that was coming from it. They took the fact that they could still here Rory's screams every so often as a good sign though it made them shudder at the thought of them stopping for reasons they couldn't bear to think of.   
  
Harry pulled the door open and ran inside only to duck just in time to avoid being hit by a flying faucet. Rosalyn Lupin was ducking under a bathroom sink, moving every time the troll tried to hit her. The troll was destroying every place to hide, however, and she was becoming an easier and easier target.   
  
"Confuse it!" Harry said desperately to Polaris and Sasha, and, seizing a tap, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.   
  
The troll stopped in mid swing and turned its beady eyes toward Harry. It hesitated, and then made for him instead, lifting its club back up as it went.   
  
"Oi, Mr. Troll-dude!" yelled Sasha lamely from the other side of the chamber as Polaris threw a metal pipe at it a little ways away. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its back, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Sasha instead, giving Polaris time to run around it while Harry got into another position to confuse it.   
  
"Come on, run, _run!_" Polaris yelled at Rory, forcefully pulling her to her feet and trying to move toward the door, but she made a desperate attempt to get to the opposite side of the chamber. "Are you mad? We have to get out of here!"   
  
"My books!" she shrieked and Polaris looked up to see Rory's book bag already beaten pretty bad by the opposite wand. "My _wand!_" she moaned.   
  
The troll roared again and started toward Sasha, who was nearest and had no way to escape.   
  
Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind and without even meaning too, stuffed his wand up his nose.   
  
The troll howled in pain. Sasha pulled out her wand to do a spell that would help perhaps, but the troll's club-less hand hit her wand while it was flailing about and threw it against the other wall. Sasha gave an odd sort of noise between a gasp and sob as she ducked the still flailing troll arms and shrunk back against the wall.   
  
"Polaris, do _something!_" Rory shrieked as Harry was nearly clipped in the head by the club.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Who the bloody well cares? Anything! You're the only one with a wand, now do _something!_"   
  
Polaris pulled out his wand—not knowing what he was going to do until he heard himself cry the first spell that came into his head: "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"   
  
The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose higher and higher up into the air, turned slowly over—and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head, and the troll fell on his face.   
  
Harry got to his feet. Sasha gave a small sort of whimper. Rory slowly backed up into the closest corner and fell into a sitting position with a sigh. Polaris was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done.   
  
It was Sasha who spoke first.   
  
"Please tell me it is dead."   
  
"I don't think it is," said Harry apologetically. "I think it's just been knocked out."   
  
He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose and found it covered in troll boogers. He grimaced as he bent down again and picked up Sasha's wand. He was just about to hand it to her when a sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the four of them look up. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, clutched his heart, and sat down slowly on a broken toilet seat.   
  
Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Polaris, Harry, and Sasha. They had never seen her look so angry.   
  
"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"   
  
Harry and Sasha looked at each other and glanced at Polaris. Harry wished he would put his wand down.   
  
Then a small voice came out of the shadows.   
  
"Please, Professor McGonagall—they were looking for me."   
  
"Miss Lupin!"   
  
Rory was back on her feet again.   
  
"I've read all about trolls—and I thought I could handle it—so I went looking for it myself."   
  
Polaris dropped his wand. Rosalyn Lupin, telling a downright lie to a teacher?   
  
"They saved my life—I know I was acting foolhardy and stuff, but—Sasha distracted the troll—Harry stuck his wand up its nose—and Polaris knocked it out with its own club. It was about to finish me off when they arrived—they didn't have time to fetch anyone, honest."   
  
Harry, Sasha, and Polaris tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them.   
  
"Well—in that case…" said Professor McGonagall, staring at the four of them, "Miss Lupin, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"   
  
Rory hung her head.   
  
"Miss Lupin, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better be off to the Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."   
  
Rory hesitated.   
  
"I believe she said _now,_ Miss Lupin," barked Snape.   
  
She didn't need to be told twice. Within a second, she had gathered up her torn book bag along with her strewn and ripped books, found her wand among the debris, and was gone. Professor McGonagall turned to Harry, Polaris, and Sasha.   
  
"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."   
  
The three of them hurried out of the chamber.   
  
"We should have gotten more than fifteen points," Polaris grumbled.   
  
"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Rory's," reminded Sasha, her voice still shaking slightly.   
  
"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Polaris admitted. "Mind you, we _did_ save her."   
  
"She might not have needed saving if you hadn't made her cry," scolded Harry. He was too tired to lecture him at the moment, however, and Polaris looked too tired to feel guilty.   
  
Once they entered the common room, they found Rory waiting by the portrait hole, her ruined supplies still in her arms. Very quickly, as she always seemed to be, she dropped all of her supplies and her arms around the three of them while muttering, "Thanks."   
  
Only Sasha seemed used to this sign of affection and quickly said, "What are friends for?" She kicked the back of Polaris's heal lightly and he sighed.   
  
They pulled away from the hug and he said, "Look—Rory—I'm sorry—"   
  
"No—I was being stupid—you didn't do anything wrong—"   
  
It looked like Polaris was about to contradict her, but Harry jumped in and said loudly, "As long as we're all friends again." The four of them smiled before rushing off to get plates; Rory's ruined supplies momentarily forgotten.   
  
The weekend after Halloween, Rory sent her supplies to Lily Potter, Harry's mother, who was very good at Charms. Monday morning, she got all of them back except her Transfiguration book which Lily had said, in the letter that she had sent along with it, was beyond repair. She had also offered to buy her a new one, but Rory was quick in replying that there was no need—she would just share with Polaris.   
  
Everybody knew that this was just a Lupin trait. The Lupins weren't a very wealthy family. Remus Lupin, Rory's father, had a hard time getting work because he was a werewolf. Rue Lupin, Rory's mother, worked really well with children, but there weren't many jobs available for teachers, babysitters, or anything of that sort. Both parents were very proud, however, of what they did have and would never accept "charity" from any of their friends and they had passed on this trait to Rory who was very generous but also very self-conscious.   
  
On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Even though Wood had insisted on keeping Harry a secret, people found out about it and either said that he would be brilliant or said that they would be running around with a mattress under him for when he fell.   
  
It was very lucky that Rory was his friend again; he didn't know how he would get through his homework without her. She got her father's old copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ and lent it to him, which turned out to be a very interesting read. Sasha and Rory were more lenient on breaking rules now that breaking them had saved a life. They still thought the only reason to break the rules intentionally was to save a life while Harry and Polaris insisted that all rules were made to be broken.   
  
Snape seemed to be limping a lot lately, Harry noticed. During one particular cool morning, Rory created a magical fire in her hand to keep them warm (one of the only spells she learned before coming to Hogwarts) and the four of them quickly crowded close together when they saw the Potions Master coming toward them. He immediately noticed their guilty faces and asked what they were hiding. Instead of Rory pulling her hands out from behind her back, Harry did and showed him the Quidditch book.   
  
He took the book away and took five points form Gryffindor insisting that non-School books from home were to be kept in the dormitory. Polaris cursed him as he limped away and prayed aloud that he hoped whatever was wrong with his leg was really hurting him.   
  
The Quidditch Match was the next day, and that evening Harry was feeling particularly restless. After a few moments of inner-debate, he finally stood up and told Sasha, Polaris, and Rory that he was going to get it.   
  
They looked at him as if he was crazy, but chorused together, "Good luck."   
  
He went down to the staffroom and knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again. Nothing. He pushed the door ajar and peered inside. Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages.   
  
"Blasted thing," Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"   
  
Harry tried to shut the door without being noticed, but—   
  
"POTTER!"   
  
Harry gulped.   
  
"I just wondered if I could have my book back."   
  
"GET OUT! _OUT!_"   
  
Harry left and sprinted back upstairs. Once he was back in the Gryffindor tower, he told the other three, in a low whisper, what he'd seen.   
  
"You know what this means?" he finished breathlessly. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him—he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick _he_ let the troll in, to make a diversion!"   
  
Rory's eyes widened.   
  
"I don't believe it," she said briskly. "Snape may be horribly foul, but he is _not_ evil. Dumbledore seems to trust him and that's good enough for me until I get more proof otherwise."   
  
"I'm with Rory," said Sasha in an apologetic tone. "Sorry guys, but I'm going to need more proof before I believe that any teacher is an evil madman."   
  
"Honestly, you two, teacher's are not saints," snapped Polaris. "At least _I'm_ with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past that greasy git. But what in the wizarding world is he after? I wonder what the dog is guarding."   
  
Harry was wondering the same thing.   
  
By eleven o'clock the next day the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Rory had a death grip on Polaris's arm, terrified of falling out of the stands no matter where they sat. As they sat down, Sasha squealed and pointed toward the opposite stands where Marauders' fathers sat conversing among each other.   
  
"They must be here to watch Harry!" said Polaris.   
  
In the locker room, Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes. Wood cleared his throat for silence.   
  
"Okay, men," he said.   
  
"And women," said Chaser Angelina Johnson.   
  
"And women," Wood agreed. "This is it."   
  
"The big one," said Fred Weasley.   
  
"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.   
  
"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Harry, "we were on the team last year."   
  
"Shut up, you two," said Wood. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."   
  
He glared at them all as if to say, "Or else."   
  
"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."   
  
Harry followed Fred and George out of the locker room and, hoping his knees weren't going to give way, walked onto the field to loud cheers. Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.   
  
"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said.   
  
Out of the corner of his eye he saw his dad and his three surrogate uncles sitting in the stands. His heart skipped. He felt braver.   
  
"Mount your brooms, please." Madam Hooch gave a loud blast of her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.   
  
The game was going as planned with Lee Jordan, the Weasley twins' friend, doing the commentary. Harry was watching from high above everyone else, keeping out of trouble and searching for the Snitch as was part of Wood's game plan. When Angelina Johnson first scored, Hagrid made his way into the stands to sit with the other three Marauders who were watching enthusiastically. Even Rory, who turned a little greener every time she glanced down and saw how high up she was, seemed to be enjoying the match.   
  
"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the—wait a moment—was that the Snitch?"   
  
Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch. Harry was faster than Higgs—he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead—he put on an extra spurt of speed—   
  
WHAM! Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course as he held on for dear life. The Golden Snitch had disappeared again.   
  
It was a moment after, as Harry dodged another Bludger, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden frightening lurch and he nearly fell off. It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. He tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goal posts and then he realised that his broom was completely out of his control. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated.   
  
No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.   
  
Hagrid watched Harry though his binoculars. Suddenly people were gasping and pointing at Harry. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.   
  
"Something could have happened when Flint blocked him, couldn't it have?" Sasha whispered.   
  
"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic—no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."   
  
At these words, Rory seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she stared frantically at the crowd.   
  
"What do you think you're doing?" moaned Polaris, who was the one with the death grip now instead of Rory.   
  
"I knew it," Rory gasped, "Snape—look."   
  
Polaris grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands right to their fathers. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering non-stop under his breath.   
  
"He looks like he's muttering a curse under his breath—a jinx, perhaps?" said Rory.   
  
"What do we do?"   
  
"Leave that to me."   
  
Before Polaris could say another word, Rory had disappeared. Polaris turned the binoculars back on Harry. It looked like he couldn't hold on much longer to the vibrating broomstick. The Weasley twins flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They began to circle below him, hoping to catch him if he fell.   
  
"Rory, you can do it," Polaris muttered desperately.   
  
Rory had fought her way across to the stand where Snape now stood, and was racing along the row behind; she didn't even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well-chosen words. Bright blue flames (her specialty) shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes.   
  
A sudden yelp thirty seconds later told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket, she scrambled back along the row.   
  
It was enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.   
  
Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick—he hit the field on all fours—cough—and something fold fell into his hand.   
  
"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.   
  
Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry was instantly brought to Hagrid's cabin where his father and three surrogate uncles waited for him along with his three best friends. Hagrid made them all a cup of strong tea.   
  
"It was Snape," Polaris was explaining to them all, "He was trying to knock you off your broom—muttering under his breath, not taking his eyes off of you—Rory, Sasha, and I saw him."   
  
"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"   
  
"I don't know," said Sasha smartly, "why was he trying to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween."   
  
All four of their father's choked. Hagrid dropped his teapot.   
  
"How do you know about Fluffy?" he said.   
  
"_Fluffy?_" asked Harry.   
  
"That _thing_ has a name?" said Sasha in disgust.   
  
"Yeah—he's mine—bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year—I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the—"   
  
James Potter coughed loudly. The four children glared at him.   
  
"Don't asked Hagrid anymore," said Peter Pettigrew setting down his teacup. "That's top secret."   
  
"_You_ know what it is!" said Sasha accusingly. Her father didn't answer.   
  
"Snape's trying to _steal_ it," said Polaris, trying a different approach.   
  
"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."   
  
"Why did he just try and kill Harry then?" cried Rory suddenly. The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape. "I'm not stupid; I know I spell when I see one. You have to keep eye contact and Snape wasn't blinking. I've read all about them—I _know_ I'm not wrong about this."   
  
"I don't know why Harry's broom acted like that," said Sirius Black slowly and calmly, "but, as much as I hate to admit it, Snape would not try to kill a student—no matter who it is."   
  
"What do you mean by that?" asked Harry accusingly.   
  
Remus Lupin shook his head. "Listen to me, all four of you, you are interfering with things that aren't supposed to be interfered—especially by four first years. It's dangerous."   
  
"That's right." Hagrid nodded. "You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel—"   
  
"Aha!" said Harry, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"   
  
Their fathers looked rather upset and Hagrid looked furious with himself.   
  
Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. All four of the Marauders were planning on going home for Christmas—like every year, they would be spending it together at Godric's Hollow which was the biggest house out of all of theirs.   
  
They had been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. Must easier to find, however, was what Sirius's comment about Snape had meant. On the second day of searching the library, Rory had come across a Year Book from 1977—the year their fathers had graduated from Hogwarts and apparently, Snape as well. They planned to wheedle the whole story out of their fathers when they went home.   
  
On the train ride home, they talked and played games; Flamel and Snape were washed out of their minds. It stayed like this most of the holiday. The four young Marauders only had themselves and their parents for company all winter break as they stayed at Godric's Hollow the whole time. They roasted marshmallows and plotted on ways to get Snape sacked and Malfoy expelled which were all fun to think of even if they wouldn't work.   
  
Christmas morning dawned on them and Harry and Polaris, who were sharing a room, woke at around the same time. They threw on their bathrobes and raced downstairs where the famous Potter tree, which stood from floor to ceiling, was decorated in tinsel and glowing candles.   
  
Rory and Sasha were already sitting at the base of the tree picking up gifts and shaking it near their ears hoping to be able to hear what was inside. Their fathers were sitting on the floor around the coffee table conversing quietly and their mothers were in quite the similar position in front of the fireplace.   
  
As Harry and Polaris entered the room, Rory looked up and sighed happily, "Finally! We'd thought you two would never get up. Come along—it's present time!"   
  
They scrambled over toward the tree not having realized how late they had slept and sat down across from the two girls. They looked up at their parents expectantly as all eight of them stood and joined them around the tree. The four young Marauders waited patiently. It was tradition that every Christmas the first gifts to be given out are the ones from their fathers to their mothers, one by one, in alphabetical order.   
  
Sirius Black was a handsome man with floppy black hair a lot like his son's. He was tall and well built. He and his son had matching grey eyes. Polaris was nearly a replica of his father except for the fact that he had his mother's sense of justice and her round chin. Sirius insisted that he would grow out of that, though. Sirius learned to be an Animagus when he was fifteen and turned into a big black dog which was why he was called Padfoot.   
  
Haya Black was a pretty Asian woman with straight black hair and matching black eyes. She had peachy-white skin with a few freckles on her neck. She was the tallest woman in the house. When she was twenty—three years after she married Sirius, he was twenty-two at the time—she learned to be an Animagus as well with Rue, Lily, and Kyria and turned into a black and white border collie which was why she was called Collie.   
  
Sirius bought her a new black dress robe ("It says that one size fits all—see?") and Haya bought him a new leather jacket ("You needed a new one, darling. The one you have now has holes all in it!")   
  
Remus Lupin was a mysterious character. He had thick dark brown hair to match his daughter's. He was already sprouting a few grey hairs, though nobody really cared about that. He and his daughter had bright amber eyes. Rory was nearly a replica of her father except she had the wisdom and fire in her eyes of her mother. Remus was four years old when he was bitten and had been a werewolf ever since which was why he was called Moony.   
  
Rue Lupin was a very pale woman with chin-length dirty-blond hair and matching hazel eyes. She had a very freckles scattered about her body. Her temper was legendary as to be the only thing that made the Marauders (both young and old) feel guilty for what they did. She did not shout like most, but instead talked in a very low demanding tone that made you feel very disappointed. Rue learned to be an Animagus three years after her marriage with Remus when she was twenty-one and became a sand-coloured fox which was why she was called Vixen.   
  
Remus bought her a gold chain bracelet ("You can add Muggle charms whenever the occasion calls for it.") and Rue bought him a fox and wolf the size of their fist made entirely out of chocolate ("Just to feed the Lupin addiction, love.")   
  
Peter Pettigrew was the shortest of the men. He had the same white-blond hair as his daughter and watery blue eyes. He even has the chubby cheeks exactly like Sasha. Unlike his daughter, however, he was plump and a bit jittery. He said constantly that he was very blessed to have two angels in his life and he didn't know what he'd do without them. Peter, when he was fifteen years old, took on the Animagus form of the rat which was why he was called Wormtail.   
  
Kyria Pettigrew was the oddball out of the group being the shortest out of the woman (where her daughter got her size) and being the only Squib in the group. Kyria grew up knowing about magic from her cousin and so knew everything there was to know. When she met Peter, she didn't tell him she was a Squib for fear that he would turn away from her, but she decided that she better tell him when they got engaged and he had been surprised but hadn't cared. Kyria was a woman freckled from head to toe with long, curly, brown hair. Three years after she was married, twenty-three years old, they were told that Squibs have their own magic and she was able to become an Animagus in the form of a chinchilla (much to the amusement of the rest of them) and is called Chinta.   
  
Peter bought her a pair of birthstone earrings ("Peridot—August, correct? I was afraid I had forgotten.") and Kyria had given him a new wallet with a Muggle picture of her, Sasha, and all three of them in it already ("For when you go away on business trips, so that you don't forget us.")   
  
James Potter was the leader of the group. He was the exact replica of his son except for the eyes. James had hazel eyes behind his black rimmed glasses. He was slightly more muscular than the other men because of all of the Quidditch that he played. It had been him who had found out about Animagi when he was twelve and suggested that the three of them become animals for Remus's sake. He had also been the first to accomplish it when he was fifteen becoming a stag every time that he transformed earning the name Prongs.   
  
Lily Potter had a temper to match her fiery red hair. Unlike Rue who could make the Marauders (both young and old) feel guilty for what they did, Lily had the gift of just intimidating them, but that didn't stop them from doing it again. Her son, Harry, had her same emerald green, but that was the only thing that he inherited from her in look. In personality, he had the same sense of curiosity that she had and even sometimes had a temper to match hers. When Lily was twenty-two, she learned with the girls how to become an Animagus and transformed into a Caspian Mare earning the name Hooves.   
  
James bought her an emerald green cloak with a scarlet lily clasp ("It reminded me so much of you, I just couldn't pass it up.") and Lily bought him a brand new pair of Quidditch gloves with his name engraved on the wrist ("I saw your face when you heard that Harry had made the team; now you two can play Quidditch together without the splinters.")   
  
Once the parents had gotten the mushy gifts out of the way, the four young Marauders dived into their gifts. After years of doing this, they learned that they each had a way about going about things.   
  
Rory would gather all of her presents in front of her and then open the smallest first before getting to the bigger ones. Sasha would just find the one closest to her and open it without much of a system. Polaris would open the ones from his parents first and then turn to the gifts from his surrogated aunts and uncles and open the gifts from his friends last. Harry would gather all of his presents in front of him, much like Rory, but he wouldn't care which one he opened first.   
  
Harry got a large box of Cauldron Cakes from Sasha, his own copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ from Rory, and a Snitch watch from Polaris. Sasha received a stuffed hippogriff from Polaris, a magical mood ring from Harry, and a brand new set of chess pieces from Rory. Polaris got a wand holder for your belt from Rory, a large box of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum from Sasha, and a plastic Quidditch figure of Marquise Wellington (a Chaser for Caerphilly Catapults) that flew around the room from Harry. Rory received a magical mood ring identical to Sasha's from Harry, a poster of Kirley McCormack from the Weird Sisters from Sasha, and large box of Chocolate Frogs along with a renewed copy of her Transfiguration book from Polaris.   
  
Sasha was just looking for her next gift when she sat down sort of sullenly and looked at her father. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked in her innocent voice.   
  
Her father blinked at her and said, "N-no, why?"   
  
"Well, not to be greedy or anything, but I don't have a gift from you—even on mum's present it only says 'From Mum' not 'From Mum and Dad'."   
  
Peter chuckled. He turned toward Remus and said, "You may have the g-genius daughter, Moony, b-but I have the observant one."   
  
Remus laughed and Rory blushed.   
  
Peter turned back toward his daughter and said, "Y-you don't have a gift from m-me, my little Marauder, b-because I am going to give it to you l-later."   
  
"We all are to each of you," said James. "You might have noticed that you didn't get ones from us as well. Before that, though, breakfast!"   
  
The four young Marauders were so curious as to what their fathers could be waiting to give them that they inhaled the food without much thought. Their mothers scolded them for eating so quickly insisting that they were likely to get a stomach ache. Once the last of their fathers were full and satisfied, they were seated on the couch in the living room.   
  
The four men looked at each other before James stepped and held out a very light parcel to his son. On top of it was a letter. Harry picked up the letter first and read aloud:   
  
"_My father gave this to me for Christmas when I was eleven and his father gave it to him. Now I give it to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you._"   
  
He looked up at his father curiously before unwrapping the package. Something fluid and silvery grey went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. All four of the children gasped.   
  
"That's not—that can't be—" breathed Polaris, unable to get a sentence out.   
  
"That's an invisibility cloak, isn't it?" asked Rory bouncing in her seat in excitement.   
  
"Harry!" cried Sasha, "What are you waiting for? Try it on!"   
  
Harry jumped off the sofa and threw the cloak around his shoulders. The other three Marauders gave a yell.   
  
"It _is!_" they cried. "It _is_ an invisibility cloak! Look down!"   
  
Harry looked down at his feet, but they were gone. He dashed to the mirror and sure enough only his head suspended in midair stared back at him. He pulled the cloak over his head and his reflection vanished completely.   
  
"Your turn," said Remus and he held out a rectangular shaped box to his daughter. There was a letter on top of this one as well. Rory picked up the letter and saw that it was slightly longer than the other one as she read it aloud:   
  
"_The four of us created this when we were in school together. It helped us out of a lot of tight situations. It took some good detective skills to track it down to where it was now. Just tap it with your wand and say 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good' to activate it. To clear it again, tap it and say, 'Mischief Managed.' Use it well and Happy Christmas._"   
  
She opened the box and found a lone piece of parchment in there. She gave her father a sceptical look, but he nodded his head. Pulling her wand from her pocket, she pointed it at the map and said, "_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good._"   
  
Polaris snorted. Rory turned to glare at him but stopped halfway as writing suddenly began to spill across the page. It was like a spider web as the lines crisscrossed, joined each other, and fanned about all across the parchment. At the top of the page, in bright green letters, was a set words that Rory read aloud.   
  
"_Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs—Purveyors of Aids of Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present_ **The Marauder's Map**." Her mouth was hanging open as she traced the lines. "Ron stayed for the holidays," she said faintly. She looked up at her father, her eyes shining with glee, and said, "This is… this is… you made this?"   
  
"We all did," corrected her father.   
  
"It was quite hard work too," said Sirius.   
  
"What with m-mapping out Hogwarts," continued Peter.   
  
"And finding the correct spells," James added.   
  
"It took us a whole year to finish," said Remus.   
  
"And a whole year to track down," Sirius said.   
  
"B-but here it is," Peter added.   
  
"As good as new!" concluded James.   
  
"This is brilliant," breathed Rory. "All of the possibilities… they're endless!"   
  
"Which l-leads us to the next g-gift," said Peter, grinning. "Now that we know that you w-won't get caught, whatever sh-shall you do with this f-freedom?" He reached into his pocket and brought out a tiny block in his chubby hand. He tapped it with his wand and it grew to the size of a telly. He grinned at his daughter as she slowly stood and walked toward the huge box. There was a letter on top of this one as well.   
  
"_It took us years to get our collection this large and now we pass it down to you. Add other 'useful' information that you may find to it, and when you think they're ready, pass it down to your children. Use it well. Happy Christmas!_"   
  
She ripped off the tape and opened the box to find several books and bits of parchment inside. Sasha shifted through the contents in the box.   
  
There were books such as _Politely Poisoning for the Prankster's Mind_ and _Hextor's Hexing Library_. Then there were more silly titles such as _Duelling for Dummies_ and _Jelly-Leg Jinx, Tickling Charm, Dancing Hex and so much more!_   
  
The parchments were covered in notes of different types of handwriting. The notes held things such as _'Coloro Commutatus – The colour changing charm; works up to fifteen feet away.'_ and _'Gario – The gibberish jinx; counter-clockwise swish and flick.'_ It also held other things such as _'Stalker Solution – slip some into the drinker's goblet and they become obsessed with the first person they see. Ingredients: two caterpillars, one sliced newt, powdered willow…'_   
  
Sasha giggled and looked up at her father. "We'll definitely put this to good use." She grinned wickedly and wiggled her eyebrows happily.   
  
Sirius laughed. "I'm sure you will, but just in case you get caught—Merlin forbid—and get stuck in detention you'll have this." He handed a messily wrapped package to his son. There was a letter with this package just like the others. Polaris read:   
  
"_Detentions were always boring for us when we were in school, so we used these to communicate with each other. Just say the name of one of the other people with a mirror (there are four) and then you can talk just as easy as that! Use it well. Have a jolly holiday._"   
  
"Only you would say jolly," muttered Polaris as he opened the package. Four square mirrors fell out of the wrapping paper and Polaris had to move swiftly to stop one of them from falling to the floor. He looked at them curiously.   
  
He handed one of them to Harry and said, "Go to the other side of the room, will you?"   
  
Harry shrugged, took the mirror, and went to the opposite corner of the room. Polaris looked into the mirror, hesitated, and looked up at his father. His father gave him a look that said '_Would I lie to you?_'   
  
_Yes, yes you would,_ Polaris thought to himself. He looked back into the mirror, however, and said, "Harry Potter."   
  
Both boys gave a small shout as the opposite's face appeared in the mirror. Rory and Sasha scrambled to their feet and looked over Polaris's shoulder. They both grinned and grabbed up the other two mirrors as well.   
  
"Well, that's all that we have," said Remus cheerfully.   
  
"Use it w-well," said a grinning Peter.   
  
"Happy Christmas," James said happily.   
  
"And jolly pranks," Sirius said in a sing-song voice.   
  
Rory caught their eye and the four young Marauders gathered up the new presents. They scuttled up the stairs and took refuge in the boys' room. As they sat the stuff down, they turned toward the brown-headed girl who was grinning at them all.   
  
"You have something up your sleeve, Rory," said Polaris smartly. "Spit it out already."   
  
"I know _exactly_ what we can do with this stuff," Rory said.   
  
"Pull pranks, of course," said Harry.   
  
"_No!_"   
  
"Then what?" asked Sasha.   
  
"Have you all forgotten already? When we get back to Hogwarts, we're going to the library and we're going to research in the Restricted Section for Nicolas Flamel."   
  
Their eyes widened as they suddenly remembered the mysterious name.   
  
"Oh, but Rory, you know we're not allowed in the Restricted Section without a note!" hissed Sasha.   
  
Rory pulled out the old parchment from her robes and said, "I have my note right here." 


	3. Chapter Three: Nicolas Flamel and Norber...

**Summary:** Peter Pettigrew never became a Death Eater and Voldemort continued to live. Inside Hogwarts, the world seems like a peaceful place, but outside of it, the Wizarding World is in chaos. The Marauders' offspring, Harry Potter, Polaris Black, Sasha Pettigrew, and Rosalyn Lupin, go to Hogwarts expecting seven peaceful years full of pranks and spells. What they receive, however, is an ongoing adventure they'll never forget. It follows the books closely.   
  
**Author's Note:** I've edited Chapter Two of the story. Peter is more in character and Kyria is no longer a Muggle who is an Animagus—as I just no realized that is what I had done—but a Squib who is an Animagus. Why did I do this? Well, I personally think that Squibs have magic just like witches and wizards, but it's just buried deeper inside of them.   
  


**It Could Have Been Like This  
Chapter Three: Nicolas Flamel and Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback**

  
  
The four Marauders could tell that their fathers thought they had forgotten about Nicolas Flamel, but ever since Rory reminded them of this mysterious character they pondered on it constantly. Who was he? Why was he important? And why wasn't he in any of the books they had checked so far?   
  
They decided to put that off for the meantime, however, and focus on the other mystery at hand. The Potions Master Severus Snape obviously meant something to their fathers especially since they had gone to school together. They continued to put off asking them about it and tried to have a carefree holiday.   
  
Afraid that the explanation would be a long one, however, Rory brought the yearbook she had found with him in it with her to breakfast the day before they went back to Hogwarts. Rory was slightly hesitant to bring up the topic, so Harry did.   
  
He poked his eggs and said, "So, how do you know Snape, Dad?"   
  
James Potter choked on the orange juice he had been drinking and the other three men slowly sat down their utensils. There was a very tense silence. After a moment, James finally said, "Why do you think I know him?"   
  
"We don't think," said Polaris smartly, "we know."   
  
"Oh is that right, little man?" asked Sirius Black teasingly though he still looked slightly uncomfortable. "How do you _know_ this?"   
  
The other three young Marauders turned to look at Rory causing the parents to turn to look at her as well. She hesitated slightly before bringing the book out from atop her lap and placing it on the table gently as if afraid it would spontaneously burst into flames. She flushed slightly when she noticed that every single eye was on her and quickly flipped to the first marked page.   
  
"You were in the same year," she said showing them the seventh year class photo. "You were in the same Defence class--" There was a partial photo of Snape and Remus Lupin sitting in Defence class, obviously not happy with the sitting arrangements. "—the same Potions class—" There was a photo of the complete Potions class with Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew sitting beside each other and Snape sitting a few rows in front. "—and the same Astronomy class." There was a picture of a sleepy James and Lily Potter trying to pay attention while Snape seemed to be completely ignoring the teacher and was reading a book.   
  
"So?" asked Sasha after a long silence.   
  
"So what?" asked Sirius Black. "We were in the same class as Snape; that doesn't mean that we knew him."   
  
The three young Marauders gave the last member of their group another significant glance which made her flush some more. She flipped the pages again to another page.   
  
"Aunt Lily and Uncle James were Head girl and boy—they were also Most Promising Couple," said Rory in an offhand voice. "Uncle Sirius was Most Handsome and Daddy was Most Studious Boy while Aunt Lily was Most Studious Girl. Daddy, Uncle James, Uncle Sirius, and Uncle Peter were Most Mischievous—"   
  
"We know this already," said Lily Potter.   
  
Once in her life, Rory ignored an adult and went on. "Uncle James and Uncle Sirius had Longest Lasting Friendship." She stopped here and then gave Sirius Black a piercing stare that only the Lupin women seemed to be able to accomplish. "And Uncle Sirius and Snape received Longest Lasting Enemies. It sounds like to me there was more than just being in the same year."   
  
There was a long pause while all four of the young Marauders stared stubbornly at their parents. They waited patiently; none of them speaking a word. It seemed as if their fathers were having a mental conversation when finally Remus Lupin sighed and nodded. It was as if his nodded decided it all and the others sighed as well before nodding.   
  
"All right, we'll tell you. Into the living room." James Potter said.   
  
As they walked into the room, the four young first years heard Sirius Black mutter to Remus Lupin, "Why did your daughter have to be a genius, Moony?"   
  
Remus just chuckled. The story that they were told was a long one as they had expected. Sirius started it.   
  
"Yes, Snape and I were the longest lasting enemies. As you know my family was full of dark wizards and witches. To be a proper Black, you had to follow the belief that being pure was right and being Muggle-born was the lowest form of filth imaginable. I was just starting realize what rubbish this all was when my parents introduced me to another pureblood maniac in hopes that I would be friends with this 'proper boy'."   
  
"Snape," guessed Polaris.   
  
Sirius nodded. "Yes, it was Snape. During a dinner party, he was ranting on about how great the two of us were for being purebloods and part of the upper class—or something like that. I wasn't really listening. I was just thinking what a loud of dung all of this was. So, I tripped him and he fell face forward into the punch."   
  
The young Marauders snorted. James took over the story.   
  
"When I was nine, I met Sirius in Diagon Alley. He had just run from his parents when we met each other in Quality Quidditch Supplies. My family was pureblood as well, and we were hoping that Siruis's parents would allow him and me to be friends. It turned out that our parents already knew and hated each other. The next time we saw each other was on the Hogwarts Express and then we both got into Gryffindor. You have to understand that the four of us weren't friends right off the bat. There was the two of us," he gestured to himself and Sirius, "known as the Demonic Duo, and then there was them."   
  
Remus rolled his eyes. "None of the teachers knew that we played the pranks where they had no idea who played them. We didn't like getting caught, so we were sneaky. The teachers thought we were perfect little angels, and it worked to our advantage."   
  
"They even pulled a prank on us a few times. Anyway, Snape was a Slytherin and hated Remus and Peter because they weren't purebloods," said Sirius in disgust. "James and I hated the slime ball, but felt it wasn't our fight so we stayed out of it. During Christmas, however, Remus and I were the only ones staying. We got into a fistfight, had an argument, came to an understanding, and when James and Peter got back, we were best friends."   
  
"Er…" said Rory.   
  
"Don't ask," interrupted Lily. "They're boys, remember?"   
  
"Oh, right," said Rory, as if that explained everything.   
  
The men all glared.   
  
"Anyway," said Peter, "the next time Snape t-tried to hex Remus and me from b-behind, James and Sirius hexed him right b-back and the old hatred flared anew."   
  
"We began to prank him and curse him as retaliation every time he cursed us or tried to get us in trouble," said James. "It went on like that for years. Nobody tried to stop us, except Lily. We didn't like each other very much then, and we never listened to her. Then things went too far."   
  
Sirius sighed. "The summer before sixth year, I ran away from home because living with my family just became too much. I went to James's house and soon found a flat that I bought before we went back to Hogwarts. I no longer had to worry about getting thrown out of anywhere. I was on my own. So, I… became more reckless. My pranks became more extreme. At the end of the year, I played a prank that—well, I regret ever doing it but I still say it served him right." His eyes narrowed. "Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to… hoping he could get us expelled…"   
  
"You see, Sirius here played a trick on Snape which nearly killed him, a trick that involved me. Severus was interested in where I went every month. One night, Snape had seen me crossing the ground with Madam Pomfrey as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be—er—amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it—if he'd got as far as the Shack, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf—but James here, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his own life… Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was…"   
  
"So that's why Snape doesn't like Rory," said Harry slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"   
  
"Exactly," said Remus, nodding.   
  
"And he doesn't like Harry," continued Polaris, "because Uncle James did the one thing that he couldn't forgive—he saved his life?"   
  
"Correct in one," said James.   
  
"And he doesn't like Sasha," added Rory thoughtfully, "because Uncle Peter was apart of your little gang?"   
  
"Y-yes, unfortunately," sighed Peter.   
  
"And he doesn't like Polaris," concluded Sasha slowly, "because Uncle Sirius and he were enemies from the start and he was the organizer of the whole thing?"   
  
"That sums it up," said Sirius regretfully.   
  
Rory opened her mouth, perhaps to ask another question, but Haya scuttled into the room with a wide grin on her face. She was practically bouncing in her shoes.   
  
"Lily, it's here!" she squeeled and Lily jumped to her feet.   
  
The two women ran out of the room, and with a curious glance, the other followed. They came out into the dining hall where Kyria and Rue were standing in front of what looked like an old grandfather's clock, except it had more than three hands and there weren't numbers around the face of the clock.   
  
There were twelve hands and each hand had on of their names upon it. In place of the numbers, it said things such as Home, Travelling, Work, School, Friend's House, Mortal Peril, Detention, Restaurant, Shopping, On Vacation, Hospital Wing, and Quidditch Pitch. At the moment Harry, Lily, and James were all pointed at 'Home' and every body else's name was pointed at 'Friend's House'.   
  
"Isn't it beautiful?" asked Rue as she ran her hand along one of the hands of the clock. "I told you it was worth your money, Lil'."   
  
"Mortal Peril?" read Lily off of the clock. "Really, Rue, do you think we'll ever need that one?"   
  
"I heard of a mother who was able to save her daughter from a pack of Kelpies a few years back because of that on the clock. She saw her daughter's name move from home to Mortal Peril and ran after her." Rue smiled. "You never know when it may come in handy."   
  
"You're going to know when we get into detention?" whined Polaris.   
  
James chuckled. "Yes, so I think that may your mother's discreet way of saying don't."   
  
The first night they got back to Hogwarts, Dumbledore threw a feast at the students return. After a meal of turkey and ham sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch the Weasley twins be chased by Percy who was telling them off for changing the flavour of his cake to lake water.   
  
It had been one of Harry's favourite holidays ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of his mind all vacation. Not until he climbed into his Hogwarts four-poster bed was he free to think about it: the invisibility cloak.   
  
Polaris, full of ham and cake and with nothing except the mirrors to bother him, fell asleep almost as soon as he'd drawn the curtains around his fore-poster. Harry leaned over the side of his own bed and pulled the cloak out from under it.   
  
_Use it well,_ the note had said. Suddenly, Harry fell wide-awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to him in this cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he jumped out of bed and threw it over his head. He could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know.   
  
He crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room, and climbed through the portrait hole. Where should he go? He stopped, his heart racing, and thought. And then it came to him. The Restricted Section in the library. He'd be able to read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He set off, drawing the invisibility cloak tight around him as he walked.   
  
He grabbed a lamp on his way into the library and held them up to the titles as he entered the Restricted Section. This didn't tell him anything. Deciding that he had to start somewhere, he heaved a large black and silver volume from the bottom shelf onto his knee and let it fall open.   
  
A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence—the book was screaming! Harry snapped it shut, the book still screaming. He stumbled backwards, knocked over his lamp, and panicking, shoved the books back onto the shelf just as he heard footsteps enter the library. He passed under Filch's arm in the doorway, invisibly, and streaked off down the corridor.   
  
He came to sudden halt next to suit of armour and suddenly realized he was lost.   
  
"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody been in the library—Restricted Section."   
  
Harry felt the blood drain from his face. It was Filch, and to his horror, it was Snape who replied, "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."   
  
Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape rounded the corner. Even though they couldn't see him, they were standing in a narrow corridor and would surely knock into him if they came any closer. He backed away as silently as he could. A door stood ajar to his left and he slipped through. Their footsteps died away and he let go of the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.   
  
He was in an unused classroom, and propped up against the wall was a magnificent mirror. There was an inscription carved around the top: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._   
  
His panic fading that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Harry moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to see him once more without a reflection. He stepped in front of it. It didn't show that he was invisible like he though, it just showed him how he was. The only thing that was different was that he was wearing his everyday robes and smiling happily. He sighed in defeat. This wasn't what he wanted to see, but something about looking at himself looking so content and happy made him grin.   
  
Shrugging to himself, he realized that he couldn't stay here; he had to find the way back to the common room. He looked around the room once before leaving it behind.   
  
"Why didn't you think to wake me up?" asked Polaris, crossly.   
  
"I didn't think about it," said Harry honestly. "I can take you there if you want. It's nothing special."   
  
"It doesn't sound like any old mirror to me," said Rory smartly. "It actually sounds familiar. I'd like to come with you tonight."   
  
"Me too," said Sasha. "We can check to see if all four of us fit under the cloak or not. Too bad about not finding anything on Flamel, though."   
  
As all four of them crept under the cloak, tripping a fair amount of times, Harry feared that he wouldn't be able to find the room again and they would all be annoyed with them. They were just about to give up when Harry found the corridor that he had been in earlier again and there it was—the unused the classroom.   
  
They pushed the door open. Harry looked around and dropped the cloak from the shoulders and the others followed suit. He pointed to the mirror as he stepped in front of it, and there he was again.   
  
"See? Nothing special," Harry whispered.   
  
"I wonder what language this is in," said Rory as she studied the inscription.   
  
"You're right," said Polaris, "all I see is you. I don't even see me!"   
  
"Me either," said Sasha as she peered over Harry's shoulder.   
  
"You can look in it properly if you want and see if it changes," said Harry as he stepped from in front of the mirror.   
  
Polaris stepped into his spot and his eyes widened. His jaw dropped and he stared transfixed at his image. Harry and Sasha shared a look and peered at Polaris curiously.   
  
"What do you see?" asked Harry, curiously.   
  
"It's my family," said Polaris slowly, taking another step forward. "Not just my mum and dad, but my whole family. There's my grandparents—and aunts—and cousins—bloody hell, even _Draco's_ there, but we're all happy. There's no house rivalry—no hatred—we're just together and _happy._"   
  
"I don't see what you're talking about. I don't see anybody," said Sasha, confusedly as she gazed into the mirror over Polaris's shoulder.   
  
"Here, you step in properly," said Polaris as he hesitantly stepped out from in front of the mirror.   
  
Sasha shrugged and took his place, but her eyes instantly glazed over as she looked into the mirror with a goofy grin.   
  
"What do you see?"   
  
She didn't answer.   
  
"Hello, Sasha? What do you see?"   
  
Again, she didn't answer.   
  
He tapped her on her shoulder, and said, "What do you see?"   
  
She whipped around and looked at him as if just realizing she was there. She shook her head a bit and looked back into the mirror. "I see," she said finally, "myself—but I'm older and," she blushed, "_prettier_. It's my wedding day—I can't see who the groom is, of course, but I'm wearing the most elegant white robes imaginable. It's just," she sighed, "perfect."   
  
"Your heart's desire is to get married?" Rory asked, tearing her eyes away from the inscription with a triumphant smile on her face.   
  
"No, it's to have a perfect wedding—wait, how'd you know—"   
  
"The inscription," she said and pointed to it. "It's not a different language; it's just backwards. See: I show not your face but your hearts desire. Now I know where I've heard of this mirror before. It's called the Mirror of Erised and was in a book on ancient magical artefacts."   
  
"Your hearts desire?" repeated Harry. "Then why do I see myself as I am now?"   
  
"The only reason I can think of is that you are perfectly happy as you are now and therefore don't desire anything. Sasha desires the perfect wedding and Polaris desires his family not to be so dysfunctional, no offence intended," Rory explained.   
  
"None will be taken if you take a look and tell us what you see," said Polaris.   
  
"Alright," said Rory as Sasha stepped aside slowly. Rory took her place in front of the mirror and a dreamy smile came over her face. She sighed and said, "I see myself as a seventh year. I have an old Prefect badge in my hand and a Head Girl badge pinned to my robes. I have a piece of parchment in my hand from McGonagall telling me that I was top of my year; my father is standing beside me congratulating me looking completely happy with a full moon in the sky." She sighed.   
  
"That sounds like more than one desire to me."   
  
"Yes, Polaris, I suppose it is. Let's go, it isn't safe to just stand around here. We have to get back—and _forget_ about the mirror. Do you all understand?"   
  
Harry and Sasha nodded, but Polaris seemed slightly hesitant.   
  
"Polaris," Rory said sternly, "people have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen. A few of them have even gone mad, not able to tell what was fact and fantasy. _Please,_ Polaris, _please_ do _not_ come back here. Do you understand?"   
  
Polaris sighed and nodded.   
  
They had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book even though Harry was sure he'd read the name somewhere. Once Quidditch practice started again, Harry nearly had no time to look or his name.   
  
Wood was working the team harder than ever. If they won their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the house championship for the first time in seven years.   
  
During on particularly wet and muddy practice session, Wood gave the team a bit of bad news. He'd just gotten very angry with the Weasleys, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their brooms.   
  
"Will you stop messing around!" he yelled. "That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!"   
  
"_Snape's_ refereeing?" George Weasley spluttered as he really did fall off his broom. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin."   
  
"It's not my fault," said Wood as the rest of the team landed to complain as well. "We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."   
  
Harry had another reason for not wanting Snape near him. He ran straight to the Gryffindor common room after practice was over to find Rory looking over her notes and Polaris and Sasha playing chess with Sasha winning drastically.   
  
"What's the matter with you?" asked Polaris when Harry sat beside him. "You look like your best friend just died, but I'm right here!"   
  
Speaking so quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry told the other three about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.   
  
"Don't you dare play," said Rory at once.   
  
"Say you're sick," said Sasha.   
  
"Actually get sick!" suggested Polaris.   
  
"Pretend to break an arm," Rory suggested.   
  
"_Really_ break your arm," said Sasha.   
  
"I can't," said Harry, miserably. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."   
  
At that moment, Neville topped into the common room with his legs stuck together with a Leg-Locker Curse. Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione Granger and Rory, both of whom jumped to their feet and performed the countercurse. Neville's legs sprang apart.   
  
"What happened, Neville?" Rory asked him, leading him over to sit with Polaris, Harry, and Sasha.   
  
"Malfoy," said Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."   
  
"You should go to Professor McGonagall to report him!" urged Rory.   
  
Neville shook his head. "I don't want anymore trouble," he mumbled.   
  
"You really do need to learn to stand up to him Neville," said Polaris. "He always walks all over people—thinking he's better than everybody else—but that's no reason to not do anything it and make it easy for him."   
  
"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out.   
  
Sasha pulled out a chocolate frog and gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry.   
  
"You're worth fifty of Malfoy," Sasha said determinedly. "The Sorting Hat put you into Gryffindor, didn't it? And where is stinking Malfoy? In nasty old Slytherin."   
  
Neville's mouth twitched to a weak smile. "Thanks, Sasha… I think I'll go to bed… D'you want the card? I heard you collected them."   
  
"Dumbledore again," she muttered as Neville walked away. "I have 'bout five of him."   
  
She went to throw him down, but Harry took it from her and gazed at it. He turned it over and his eyes widened. He looked up at the three of them.   
  
"_I've found him!_" he whispered. "I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the back of the Chocolate Frog cards. Listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, _and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel'_!"   
  
Rory stared opened mouth. "Alchemy…" she repeated faintly and looked around the room as if expecting to see something jump out at her.   
  
She grinned and jumped to her feet before scurrying over to Hermione Granger's table. Hermione gave a small nod and the two of them sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. The three of them were barely able to exchange a mystified look before she came back with an enormous old book in her arms.   
  
"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library before Christmas for a little research and Hermione asked to borrow it for a bit of light reading."   
  
"_Light?_" said Polaris, but Rory ignored him and continued to look something up, flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself.   
  
At last, she found what she was looking for.   
  
"I knew it! _Look!_" She pointed at a passage. "Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the _only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone!_"   
  
"The what?" said the three of them simultaneously.   
  
Rory rolled her eyes. "Look—read that, there."   
  
She pushed the book toward them, and Harry, Polaris, and Sasha read the passage on the Sorcerer's Stone.   
  
"See?" said Rory, when the three of them were finished. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew that someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"   
  
"A stone that makes gold and stops you from dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it! _Anyone_ would want it!"   
  
Harry decided to play in the match against Hufflepuff even with Snape refereeing. He was extremely nervous and on edge as the match drew closer, but he wasn't the only one. The whole team loved the idea of overtaking Slytherin in the Quidditch Cup, but they didn't see how that would be possible with a biased referee.   
  
When Polaris, Sasha, and Rory wished Harry luck outside of the locker rooms that after noon, he knew that they were wondering whether or not they'd ever see him alive again. It wasn't exactly what you'd call comforting.   
  
Polaris, Sasha, and Rory, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to their fathers who had once again come to watch the match. They didn't seem to understand why they looked so grim or why they had brought their wands to the match, but they didn't offer any explanation either.   
  
They were so happy to find that Dumbledore had come to watch the match as well. They realized, however, that was probably why Snape looked so grim.   
  
"I've never seen Snape look so mean," Polaris said aloud. "Look—there they go. Ouch!"   
  
Someone had poked him in the back of the head. It was Malfoy.   
  
"Oh, sorry, cousin, didn't see you there." Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle. "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want to bet? What about you, Lupin?"   
  
He didn't even seem to notice that their fathers were sitting right beside them, but Rory didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty. She was staring fixedly at Harry who was circling the pitch like a hawk. She was slightly green from the heights, but she looked more determined to watch Harry play than to let her fear grip her.   
  
"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty. "It's people who betrayed their blood. See, there's the Potters and the Weasleys—you should be on the team, cousin; your family is a blood traitor if I've ever seen one."   
  
"Mmm-hmm," said Polaris absently, not daring to take his eyes from the game.   
  
"Obviously you have a very different definition of what a blood traitor is, Malfoy," said Sasha angrily.   
  
"Pettigrew, you're the worst out of the lot. Your mother and your father's parents—squibs aren't they?"   
  
Sasha's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry.   
  
"Not another word, Malfoy, or I'll—"   
  
"Guys!" shrieked Rory, suddenly. "Harry—"   
  
"What? Where?"   
  
Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd.   
  
"You're in luck, Pettigrew, Potter's obviously spotted some brains on the ground—perhaps he'll share some with you!" said Malfoy.   
  
_SMACK!_   
  
Polaris wheeled around in his seat to find Malfoy sprawled on his bench with Sasha standing over him menacingly. Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward, but Polaris jumped in front of her.   
  
"You wouldn't think about hitting a girl, now would you?" asked Polaris innocently, as he glanced over at Peter Pettigrew who had stood to defend his daughter. "Especially in front of her own father."   
  
Crabbe and Goyle snapped at that and turned to look at the four gentlemen sitting down the row. Their eyes widened as Malfoy climbed to his feet. He gave the four men a disgusted look before saying, "Let's go."   
  
"Polaris! Sasha! We've won! Gryffindor's ahead of Slytherin! Where are you? Harry's won!" squeeled Rory, having not noticed what had gone on behind her.   
  
She hugged a confused but pleased Sasha and continued to dance in her seat as Harry jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground.   
  
Some times later, after the cheering had dissipated and the Gryffindors left the locker rooms. Rory, Polaris, and Sasha wandered through the halls looking for Harry who had yet to come back to the common room. They were just rounding a corridor when they nearly ran straight into a breathless Harry.   
  
"Where in the wizarding world have you been, Harry?" Rory asked sternly.   
  
"Gryffindor won! We won! You won!" shouted Polaris, thumping Harry on the back.   
  
"And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Crabbe and Goyle made to clobber me right in front of my dad!" giggled Sasha showing off her once again bruised knuckles.   
  
"Everyone's waiting for you in the common room. We're having a party—courtesy of Fred and George," explained Polaris.   
  
"Never mind that now," said Harry breathlessly. "Let's find an empty room; you wait 'til you hear this…"   
  
He made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, and then he told them why he had never gone back to the common room.   
  
"So we were right, it is the Sorcerer's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy—and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus-pocus'—I reckon there are other things guarding the stone part from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snap needs to break through—"   
  
"If you're saying that the only thing keeping Snape from the stone is Quirrell…" started Rory slowly.   
  
"We're doomed!" sighed Sasha.   
  
Polaris nodded. "It'll be gone by the end of the week."   
  
The four of them began to be nicer to Professor Quirrell and were surprised to find that several weeks later it did not seem as though he had told Snape how to get past his enchantment. Rory began to study constantly as Easter came around the teachers seemed to take her side of things and gave them so much homework that the holiday did not seem like a holiday.   
  
After several hours of studying where Polaris was nearly banging his head against the table in despair, they finally decided that a visit to Hagrid would do them some good. When they knocked on the gamekeeper's hut, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed.   
  
It was stifling hot inside and there was a blazing fire in the grate.   
  
"So—yeh came to ask me 'bout Nicolas Flamel, didn't yeh?"   
  
"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," said Polaris impressively. "_And_ we know that Fluffy's guarding the Sorcerer's Stone."   
  
Hagrid looked shocked.   
  
"What we don't know," said Harry, deciding that there was no point in beating around the bush, "is what else is guarding the stone apart from Fluffy."   
  
"Yeh know I can't tell yeh that," he said. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. The Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts—I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."   
  
"Oh, come on, Hagrid; we know that you don't want to tell us as we're just measly little students, but we know that you know _everything_ that goes on around here, so you do know what else is guarding the Stone," said Sasha in the best flattering voice she could muster, and they saw Hagrid bite back a smile.   
  
"We're really only wondering _who_ did the guarding, actually." Rory continued, fluttering her eyelashes. "We wondered who Dumbledore trusted enough to help him with this, apart from you of course."   
  
Polaris and Harry beamed at Sasha and Rory as Hagrid's chest swelled with pride.   
  
"Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that… let's see… he borrowed Fluffy from me... then some o' the teachers did enchantments… Professor Sprout—Professor Flitwick—Professor McGonagall—" he ticked them off on his fingers; "Professor Quirrell—an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."   
  
"_Snape?_"   
  
"Yeah—yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped _protect_ the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."   
  
Harry wasn't the only one thinking that him helping guard it would only help him in stealing it.   
  
"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" said Harry anxiously. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"   
  
"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," said Hagrid proudly.   
  
"Well, that's something," Harry muttered to the others.   
  
"Hagrid, can we crack open a window?" asked Sasha. "I'm stifling in here."   
  
"Can't, Sasha, sorry," said Hagrid as he glanced at the fire.   
  
They glanced at it as well. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.   
  
"Where in the wizarding world did you get it, Hagrid?" said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. "It must have cost you a fortune."   
  
"Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."   
  
"What are you going to do with it when it hatches though, Hagrid?" said Rory desperately. "You do realize that you live in a _wooden_ house, right?"   
  
But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire.   
  
Then, during breakfast one time, Hedwig brought Harry another note from Hagrid. He had written only two words: _It's hatching._   
  
All of them were excited to go, but were also dreading it. They finally decided to go after Herbology where Hagrid greeted them, looking flushed and excited.   
  
"It's nearly out." He ushered them inside.   
  
The egg was laying on the table, covered in deep cracks with something moving inside of it. They all drew their chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath.   
  
All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open letting a baby dragon flop onto the table. It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout.   
  
"Isn't he _beautiful?_" Hagrid murmured as he reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head, but it snapped at his fingers. "Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!" said Hagrid.   
  
"That's a Norwegian Ridgeback," muttered Polaris. "They're really rare."   
  
"Exactly how fast do they grow?" asked Rory slowly.   
  
Hagrid was about to answer when the colour suddenly drained from his face—he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.   
  
"What's the matter, Hagrid?" asked Sasha cautiously.   
  
"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains—it's a kid—he's runnin' back up ter the school."   
  
Harry bolted to the door and looked out. Even at a distance there was no mistaking him. Malfoy had seen the dragon.   
  
During the next week, they spent most of their free time in Hagrid's darkened hut, trying to reason with him.   
  
"Just let him go," Harry urged. "Set him free."   
  
"I can't," said Hagrid. "He's took little. He'd die."   
  
The dragon had grown three times in length in just a week.   
  
"I've decided to call him Norbert," said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. "He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mommy?"   
  
"He's finally cracked," Polaris muttered in Harry's ear.   
  
Rory suddenly turned to Polaris.   
  
"Your dad," she said.   
  
"What about my dad?" said Polaris.   
  
"Your dad works with magical creatures—doesn't he know any dragon preserves that could take Norbert? We could send him there and they'll take care of him and put him back in the wild!"   
  
"Brilliant!" said Polaris. "How about it, Hagrid."   
  
In the end, Hagrid agreed they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him.   
  
The following week dragged by. Wednesday night found Harry, Rory, and Sasha alone in the common room with Polaris appeared out of nowhere. He had been at Hagrid's helping him feed Norbert dead rats.   
  
"It bit me!" he moaned, showing them his bloody handkerchief covered hand. "And on my right hand too! I won't be able to use my wand or a write a single thing down for a week."   
  
There was a tap on the dark window.   
  
"It's Hedwig!" said Harry, hurrying to let her in. "She'll have Sirius's answer!"   
  
The four of them put their heads together to read the note.   
  
_Dear Polaris,   
  
Well, let me just say that you are in a very odd position, aren't you? Yes, I do know a few dragon preserves, and one in particular would be happy to take the Norwegian Ridgeback off your hands, but it won't be easy getting him there. There are some dragon experts leaving to the preserve in Romania soon, but they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon.   
  
Take the Ridgeback up to the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday and they'll meet you there and take him away while it's still dark. Do you think you could do that? Answer me as soon as possible.   
  
Oh, and do not tell your mother that I'm helping you with this.   
  
Love,   
  
Your father_   
  
They looked at one another.   
  
"We've got the invisibility cloak and the Marauders Map," said Harry. "It shouldn't be too difficult—I think the cloak's big enough to cover two of us and Norbert."   
  
It was a mark of how bad the last week had been that the other three agreed with him. Anything to get rid of Norbert—and Malfoy.   
  
By the next morning, Polaris's bitten hand had swollen twice its usual size. He didn't know if it was safe to go to Madam Pomfrey, but by the afternoon, he had no choice. The cut had turned a nasty shade of green; it looked as if Norbert's fangs were poisonous.   
  
They ran up to meet with Polaris and see how he was doing at the end of the day. He told them how Malfoy had been threatening to tell what really bit him and how he had taken one of his books. Sasha swore that Malfoy was only doing this because she had hit him at the Quidditch match.   
  
Harry and Rory, who had been the two candidates to carry Norbert, would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say good-bye to his dragon if they hadn't been so worried about what they had to do.   
  
"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and Rory covered the crate with the invisibility cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. "Mommy will never forget you!"   
  
The crate was quite heavy, and they were already panting by the time they re-entered the Entrance Hall. Up another staircase, then another—even one of the shortcuts from the Marauders Map didn't make the work much easier.   
  
They nearly dropped the crate when a lamp suddenly flared on up ahead. Professor McGonagall, in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net, had Malfoy by the ear.   
  
"Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how _dare_ you—"   
  
"You don't understand, Professor. Harry Potter's coming—he's got a dragon!"   
  
"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on—I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"   
  
The steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower seemed the easiest thing in the world after that. Not until they'd stepped out into the cold night air did they throw off the cloak, glad to be able to breathe properly again. Rory punched the air above her head happily.   
  
"Did you see that? Malfoy got detention!"   
  
"Yeah," Harry snorted.   
  
About ten minutes later, four broomsticks came swooping out of the darkness. They all helped buckle Norbert safely into it and then Harry and Rory shook hands with the others and thanked them very much. At last, Norbert was going… going… _gone_.   
  
No more dragon—Malfoy in detention—what could spoil their happiness? The answer to that was waiting at the foot of the stairs. As they stepped into the corridor, Filch's face loomed suddenly out of the darkness.   
  
"Well, well, well," he whispered, "we _are_ in trouble."   
  
They'd left the invisibility cloak on top of the tower. Things couldn't have been worse, Harry thought until Professor McGonagall appeared, leading Sasha.   
  
"Harry!" Sasha burst out, the moment she saw the other two. "I was trying to find you to warn you. Malfoy found Polaris's letter, he said he was going to head you off—"   
  
Harry shook his violently, and Sasha immediately shut up.   
  
"I would never have believed it of any of you. Mr. Filch says you were up in the astronomy tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. _Explain yourselves._"   
  
It was the first time Rory ever failed to answer a teacher's question. She was staring at her slippers, trembling from head to foot.   
  
"I'm disgusted," said Professor McGonagall. "Four students out of bed in one night! I've never heard of such a thing before! You, Miss Lupin, I thought you had more sense. As for you, Mr. Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than this. All three of you will receive detentions—yes, you too, Miss Pettigrew, _nothing_ gives you the right to walk around the school at night, especially these days, it's very dangerous—and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor."   
  
Rory's head snapped up. "_Fifty_?" she repeated faintly.   
  
"Fifty points _each,_" said Professor McGonagall, breathing heavily through her long pointed nose.   
  
"Oh _no_—please—"   
  
"Professor, you _can't—_"   
  
"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Potter. Now get back to bed, all of you. I've never been more ashamed of Gryffindor students." 


	4. Chapter Four: Lord Voldemort

**Summary:** Peter Pettigrew never became a Death Eater and Voldemort continued to live. Inside Hogwarts, the world seems like a peaceful place, but outside of it, the Wizarding World is in chaos. The Marauders' offspring, Harry Potter, Polaris Black, Sasha Pettigrew, and Rosalyn Lupin, go to Hogwarts expecting seven peaceful years full of pranks and spells. What they receive, however, is an ongoing adventure they'll never forget. It follows the books closely.   
  
**Author's Notes:** Why _Silent Night?_ Well, Sasha is an exaggerated me and when I thought about putting something to sleep, that was the first song that popped into my head. I don't have any little brothers or sisters or cousins, so I don't know any lullabies and neither does Sasha. Do you think it's a weird ending? I suppose I can see where you'd say that, but I'm quite proud of it myself. I personally thought that if Voldemort was there instead of Quirrell, the dungeons would have been much more a disaster, thus having no need for the some of the rooms. Why did I go and give all of them scars? You'll find out… eventually… And what in the world is with Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter? I thought that if Ginny hadn't been a happy little fan of his then he might have taken his time to actually look at her. No, his crush will not last during the next book, but yes it will be brought up again.   
  
**

It Could Have Been Like This   
Chapter Four: Lord Voldemort

**   
  
A hundred and fifty points lost. Harry couldn't sleep that night. He had heard both Rory and Sasha break down into sobs as they ran up to the girls' dormitory. He knew they, like himself, was dreading the dawn. What would the other Gryffindors think of what they'd done?   
  
Every single Gryffindor turned on them. True, they weren't very popular by any means, but Harry was the youngest Quidditch player. He was Gryffindor Quidditch hero, and suddenly, he was the reason that Slytherin was going to win the House Cup again. Even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs turned on him, though the Slytherins clapped and thanked him every time they passed him in the hallway.   
  
Only Polaris stood by him.   
  
"They'll forget this in a few weeks. Remember our dads? They used to lose loads of points when they were here, and people still liked them."   
  
"They never did lose a hundred and fifty points in one go, though, did they?" said Harry miserably.   
  
"Well—I don't think so," Polaris admitted.   
  
It was a bit too late to repair the damage, but Harry swore to himself not to meddle in things that weren't his business from now on. Even Quidditch had lost its fun. The rest of the team wouldn't speak to Harry during practice, and if they had to speak about him, they called him "the Seeker."   
  
Harry was almost glad that the exams weren't far away. He, Polaris, Rory, and Sasha kept to themselves, working late into the night, trying to remember the necessary information that would appear on their tests.   
  
A week before exams, Harry new resolution not to interfere in anything that didn't concern him was put to an unexpected test. Walking back from the library, he heard whimpering quickly followed by Quirrell's voice.   
  
"No—no—not again, please—"   
  
It sounded as if somebody was threatening him.   
  
"All right—all right—" he heard Quirrell sob.   
  
Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom straightening his turban. Once Quirrell was completely out of sight, he peered into the classroom and saw that it was empty even though a door stood ajar at the other end.   
  
Harry went back to the library, where Rory was testing Polaris on Potions while Sasha reviewed Transfiguration. Harry told them what he'd heard.   
  
"He's won then?" asked Polaris faintly. "Quirrell's finally told him how to get passed his portion of the enchantments—"   
  
"Don't forget about Fluffy," said Sasha.   
  
"I bet there's a book in this place somewhere about how to get passed a three-headed dog," said Polaris. "He probably won't even have to ask Hagrid! So what do you reckon we do, Harry?"   
  
The light of mischief and adventure was shining in his eyes, but Rory answered before Harry could.   
  
"We just have to tell Dumbledore. If we try anything, we'll likely be thrown out. It's what we should have done ages ago, anyway."   
  
"But we've got no _proof!_" said Harry.   
  
After a moment's hesitation, Rory and Sasha agreed, but Polaris didn't.   
  
"If we just do a bit of detective work—"   
  
"No," said Harry flatly, "we've done enough detective work to last us a lifetime."   
  
He looked over Sasha's shoulder as he reviewed this term's Transfiguration notes.   
  
The following morning, notes were delivered to Harry, Rory, and Sasha at the breakfast table. They were their detention slips. Harry had nearly forgotten they had detention as well.   
  
At eleven o'clock that night, they said good-bye to Polaris in the common room and went down to the entrance hall. Filch was already there—so was Malfoy. Harry had also forgotten that Malfoy had gotten a detention, too.   
  
"Follow me," said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside.   
  
They marched across the dark grounds. Sasha and Rory kept sniffing and Harry wondered what their punishment was going to be. Ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut. Then they heard a distant shout.   
  
"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."   
  
Harry's relief at the though of working with Hagrid must have shown on his face, because Filch said, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy—it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."   
  
At this, Sasha let out a little moan, and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.   
  
"The forest?" he repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual. "We can't go in there at night—there's all sorts of things in there—werewolves, I heard."   
  
Rory spun on her heel. "Oh yes," hissed Rory in a voice that made even Harry shudder, "werewolves roam all throughout that forest, and you know what? They especially like little blond-headed Slytherin _snitches_ to tear apart with their claws and teeth while drinking their _blood_—" It looked as if she was going to go on, but Filch threw her a reproachful look and she turned back around, but over her shoulder, she said, "Oh, but on second though, werewolves only come out on the full moon, _idiot_."   
  
Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.   
  
"Abou' time," he said. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Rory, Sasha?"   
  
"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," said Filch coldly, "they're here to be punished, after all."   
  
"That's why yer late, is it?" said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."   
  
"I'll be back at dawn," said Filch, "for what's left of them," he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.   
  
"Right then," said Hagrid, "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."   
  
He led them to the very edge of the forest and held his lamp up high.   
  
"Look there," said Hagrid," see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."   
  
"I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.   
  
"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid. "So me, Harry, an' Sasha'll go one way an' Draco, Rory, an' Fang'll go the other. Get yer wands out an' practice now—that's it—an' if anyone get s in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh—so be careful—let's go."   
  
A little way into it they reached a fork in the earth path, and Harry, Sasha, and Hagrid took the left path while Malfoy, Rory, and Fang took the right. They walked in silence, their eyes on the ground. Harry saw that Hagrid was very worried.   
  
"You all right, Sasha?" Hagrid whispered. "Don' worry, it can't've gone far if it's this badly hurt, an' then we'll be able ter—GET BEHIND THAT TREE!"   
  
Hagrid seized Harry and Sasha and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound of a cloak trailing along the ground faded away.   
  
"I knew it," he murmured. "There's summat in here that shouldn' be."   
  
They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Harry kept looking nervously over his shoulder. He had the nasty feeling they were being watched. He was very glad they had Hagrid and his crossbow with them. They had just passed a bend in the when Sasha grabbed Hagrid's arm.   
  
"Red sparks! Look! The others are in trouble!"   
  
"You two wait here!" Hagrid shouted. "Stay on the path, I'll come back for yeh!"   
  
They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn't hear anything but rustling leaves around them. The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry's seemed to be picking up every sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others?   
  
At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid's return. Malfoy, Rory, and Fang were with him. Hagrid and Rory were fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Rory and grabbed her as a joke, but she turned around and cursed him. Malfoy panicked and sent up the sparks.   
  
"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups—Malfoy, you stay with me an' Sasha, Harry, you with Fang and Rory. An' Rory," Hagrid added with a grin hidden behind his beard, "do try not to curse Harry, alrigh'?"   
  
So Harry set off into the heart of the forest with Rory and Fang. He was quite glad he wasn't stuck with Malfoy instead, but being without Hagrid made him slightly more jumpy. Harry thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker as there were splashes on the roots of a tree. He could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an oak.   
  
"Look—" Rory murmured, holding out her arm to stop Harry. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer.   
  
It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. Rory moaned at the sight of it. Harry moved to take a step toward it when a slithering sound made him freeze where he stood. Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Rory clutched Harry's arm tightly. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animal's side, and began to drink its blood.   
  
Rory whimpered and then clamped her hands over her mouth as she realized what she'd just done. The hooded figure heard, however, and raised its head and looked right at the two of them—unicorn blood was dripping down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly toward them—Rory took a step back and pulled on Harry's robes for him to do the same, but he was frozen in fear.   
  
Suddenly his senses returned, and he staggered backward. His suddenly movement started Rory, and she stumbled backward tripping on a root and fell on her back. Harry stumbled to try and help her up when he heard hooves behind them, galloping, and something jumped clean over them, charging at the figure.   
  
The figure—half horse and half man—kicked its legs out threateningly toward the figure, and it looked as if the figure was going to reach for a wand before changing its mind and gliding away. The young-looking centaur turned to face them.   
  
"Are you all right?" said the centaur, pulling Rory to her feet.   
  
She nodded, her face still as pale as death with her mouth hanging open in a silent scream.   
  
"Yes—thank you—what _was_ that?" asked Harry.   
  
"You are the Potter boy and you are the Lupin girl," he said. "You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time—especially for you two whose fathers are no strangers to our forest. Can you two ride? It will be quicker this way. My name is Firenze," he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry and Rory could clamber onto his back.   
  
As they plunged off into the trees, Rory seemed to have gotten her voice back, though it was still shaking considerably.   
  
"You never answered Harry's question," she stammered. "What was that thing you saved us from?"   
  
Firenze warned them to keep their head bowed in case of low-hanging branches, but did not answer their question. They were passing a particularly dense patch of trees when Firenze suddenly stopped.   
  
"Rosalyn Lupin, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"   
  
"Y-yes," said Rory. "It's to keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but it is also cursed."   
  
"That is correct. It is a monstrous thing to slay a unicorn," said Firenze. "Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. You have slain something pure and defenceless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."   
  
"But who'd be that desperate?" Harry wondered aloud. "If you're going to be cursed forever, death's better, isn't it?"   
  
"It is," Firenze agreed, "unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else—something that will bring you back to full strength and power—something that will mean you can never die. Harry Potter, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"   
  
"The Sorcerer's Stone! Of course—the Elixir of Life! But I don't understand who—"   
  
"Oh, Harry!" cried Rory suddenly from behind him. "Think! Can you think of no one that would do that just to wait until they could become immortal—not to mention that they could offer their followers immortality?"   
  
"Do you mean," Harry croaked, "that was _Vol_—"   
  
"Harry! Rory! Are you two all right?"   
  
Sasha was running toward them down the path, Hagrid was puffing along behind her.   
  
"I'm fine," said Harry, hardly knowing what he was saying. "The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in that clearing back there."   
  
"This is where I leave you two," Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. "You two are safe now."   
  
They slid off his back. Firenze turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest, leaving Harry and Rory shivering behind him.   
  
Polaris had fallen asleep in the dark common room while waiting up for them to return. He shouted something about idiot Slytherins when Harry roughly shook him awake. In a matter of seconds, though, he was wide-eyed as Harry began to tell him and Sasha what had happened in the forest.   
  
Harry couldn't sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. He was still shaking. As he glanced over at Rory, he saw that she was too, but she had taken her fear different and had her knees drawn up her chest and was sitting on the floor staring off into space.   
  
"Snape wants the Stone for Voldemort… and Voldemort's waiting in the forest… and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich… Firenze knew who Rory and I were because of our dads… he probably would have known you two as well… If Voldemort gets the Stone then he'll start getting a lot more followers… now he won't only have to offer them power, but immortality and gold as well… So all we've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the stone," Harry went on feverishly, "then Voldemort will be able to basically take over the world… Well, I suppose Malfoy will be happy."   
  
Sasha looked very frightened. Rory, however, from her spot on the floor had a small word of comfort.   
  
"Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't and cannot touch you. With Dumbledore around, I'm willing to bet that the Stone is safe, no matter if Snape knows how to get past all of the enchantments or not."   
  
The sun was already starting to come up when they finally went to bed with sore throats. As Harry pulled back his sheets, he found his invisibility cloak folded neatly underneath them. There was a note pinned to it: _Just in case_.   
  
In the years to come, the four of them would never quite remember how they had managed to get through their exams when they were half expecting Voldemort to come bursting through the door at any moment. They were especially glad when they had their last exam (History of Magic), and even Rory cheered with everybody else when Professor Binns told them to put down their quills.   
  
"We don't have to study anymore," Polaris sighed happily, stretching out on the grass. "You three could look more cheerful; we have a week of complete freedom until we get our results."   
  
Harry was lost in thought, Rory clicking her tongue nervously, and Sasha kept picking at the grass as if hoping it would tell her something.   
  
Harry suddenly jumped to his feet.   
  
"Where do you think you're going?" asked Polaris sleepily.   
  
"I've just thought of something," said Harry. He had turned white. "We've got to go see Hagrid, now."   
  
"Why?" panted Rory, but Harry, sprinting across the grounds toward the forest, didn't answer.   
  
Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.   
  
"Hullo," he said, smiling. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"   
  
"Sounds great," said Sasha, but Harry cut her off.   
  
"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"   
  
"Dunno," said Hagrid casually, "he wouldn' take his cloak off."   
  
He saw the four of them look stunned and raised his eyebrows.   
  
"It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head—that's the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."   
  
"What did the two of you talk about, Hagrid? Did you mention anything about Hogwarts, about Fluffy? Did he seem interested in him?" asked Rory urgently, catching onto Harry's thinking.   
  
"Well—yeah—he asked what type o' creature I look after… so I told him… after all, how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep—" Hagrid suddenly looked horrified. "I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" he blurted out. "Forget I said it! Hey—where're yeh goin'?"   
  
Harry, Polaris, Sasha, and Rory didn't speak to each other at all until they came to a halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds.   
  
"We've got to go to Dumbledore," said Rory, desperately. "Dumbledore's got to believe us with all of this evidence—he's a good judge of character, he'll be able to tell that we aren't lying."   
  
Harry nodded. "We'll just have to—"   
  
"What are you three doing inside?" It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.   
  
"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," said Sasha, quite bravely.   
  
"See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. "Why?"   
  
"It's sort of a secret," Harry said.   
  
Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared. "Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago."   
  
"He's _gone?_" said Polaris frantically. "_Now?_ But this is important!"   
  
"Look," said Harry, "Professor—it's about the Sorcerer's Stone—"   
  
Professor McGongall dropped her books out of shock, but didn't bother to pick them up. "How do you know--?" she spluttered.   
  
"Professor, we think—we _know_—that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. Please, we must speak with Professor Dumbledore," said Sasha desperately.   
  
"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she said after eying them suspiciously for a moment. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected. Now, I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."   
  
But they didn't.   
  
"He's going to go after it tonight, isn't he?" said Rory slowly.   
  
Harry nodded. "He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note; I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."   
  
He paused and looked at the three of them, pale and shaken.   
  
"I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first."   
  
"Are you crazy?" said Polaris.   
  
"Harry, you can't!" cried Sasha.   
  
"This isn't just about being expelled, Harry—you could die!" said Rory.   
  
"SO WHAT?" Harry shouted. "Do you realize how many wizards will start going to Voldemort's side once they hear that he can give them everything they've ever wanted? Gold? Power? Immortality? He'll start gaining followers in flocks, and the war will be over and we'll lose! I'm just one measly little kid that might die—that's fine, but one thousand measly little kids will die if Voldemort gets this Stone. There will be no Hogwarts—there will be no Ministry of Magic—it will all belong to Voldemort. I'm not going to let that happen!"   
  
He glared at them.   
  
"You're right, Harry," sighed Rory, who looked as if she wished she had a book to hide behind.   
  
"I'll use the invisibility cloak and the map if you'll lend it to me, Rory," said Harry. "It's just lucky I got the cloak back."   
  
"Good thing it covers all four of us," said Polaris.   
  
"All—all four of us?"   
  
"You seriously didn't think that we'd let you go alone, did you?"   
  
"I sure hope he didn't or we would have to worry about his sanity," said Sasha promptly.   
  
"Honestly, how do you plan on getting the Stone without us? We'd better look through Sasha's books, there might be something useful…"   
  
After dinner the four of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.   
  
"Better get the cloak and map," Polaris muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Rory and Harry came back down a moment later. "Come on, let's put the cloak on now and check the map—"   
  
"What are you doing?" said a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad. "You're going out again," he said.   
  
"No, no, no," said Sasha. "No, we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?"   
  
"I won't let you do it," he said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. "I'll-I'll fight you!"   
  
"_Neville,_" Polaris exploded, "you don't know what you're doing. Please, just get out of the way!"   
  
"Go on then, try and hit me!" said Neville, raising his fists. "I'm ready!"   
  
Harry turned to Rory. "_Do something!_"   
  
Rory stepped forward. "Neville, I'm really, really sorry about this." She raised her wand. "_Consopio!_"   
  
A very dazed look came over Neville's face. He swayed on the spot and muttered something about stopping them before falling to his knees. He mumbled something and then fall flat on his face. A noise like a fog-horn soon followed. Neville was snoring.   
  
"What've you done to him?" Harry whispered.   
  
"I've just put him to sleep. He'll wake on his own in a few hours," said Rory miserably. "Oh, Neville, you left me no choice."   
  
"We're so sorry, Neville," said Sasha.   
  
"We had to, Neville, no time to explain," said Harry.   
  
"You'll understand once this is done, Neville," said Polaris as they stepped over him and pulled on the invisibility cloak.   
  
Several minutes later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor—and the door was already ajar. Snape had already gotten past Fluffy. As the door creaked, low, rumbling breaths met their ears. All three of the dog's heads were sleeping silently.   
  
"There's no instrument in sight," said Rory slowly. "That means that either Snape sung or…"   
  
"Or what?" asked Polaris.   
  
"Or somebody put Fluffy under a very powerful sleeping spell."   
  
"And since it's hard to do that to a three-headed dog," said Polaris, catching on, "it means that Voldemort's here."   
  
Rory nodded, and this statement seemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Underneath the cloak, Harry turned to the other three.   
  
"If you want to go back, I won't blame you," he said. "You can take the cloak and the map, I won't need them now."   
  
"Don't be an idiot," said Polaris.   
  
"We're coming," said Rory.   
  
"You're stuck with us," said Sasha.   
  
A low, rumbling growl told them that Fluffy was slowly waking up.   
  
"Did anybody bring an instrument?" asked Harry. They shook their head. "Okay, who wants to do the honour of singing, then?"   
  
The two boys looked at the girls. The girls looked at each other. Finally, Sasha nodded and said, "I will. Well, here goes…   
  
_

Silent night, holy night   
All is calm, all is bright   
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child   
Holy Infant so tender and mild   
Sleep in heavenly peace   
Sleep in heavenly peace."

_   
  
From the first year word the beast's eyes began to droop. Sasha hardly drew a breath. Slowly, the dog's growls ceased—it tottered on its paws and fell back to its knees, then it slumped to the ground, fast asleep. They slipped out of the cloak, Sasha starting to sing the second verse, and crept toward the trapdoor. They could feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as they approached the giant heads.   
  
Polaris stepped carefully over the dog's legs. He bent and pulled the ring of the trapdoor swung up and open.   
  
"There's nothing—just black—we can't climb down; it looks like we're going to have to drop."   
  
"I'll go first," said Harry as he climbed over it and looked down through the trapdoor. There was no sign of a bottom. He lowered himself through the hole until he was hanging on by his fingertips. Then he looked up at Ron and said, "If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, right?"   
  
"Right," said Polaris.   
  
"See you in a minute, I hope…"   
  
And Harry let go. FLUMP. With a funny, muffled sort of thump he landed in some sort of dust as it flew up and around him as he landed. He coughed and shook it out of his hair.   
  
"It's okay!" he called up to the light, "it's a soft landing, you can jump!"   
  
Polaris followed right away, quickly followed by Rory. They landed beside each other sprawled next to Harry.   
  
"What's this stuff?" were Polaris's first words.   
  
"Dunno, some sort of dust. I suppose it's here to break the fall. Come on, Sasha!"   
  
The distant singing stop. There was a loud bark from the dog, but Sasha had already jumped. She landed on Harry's other side.   
  
"I know what this is!" Rory suddenly shrieked, and she jumped to her feet. "This is ash! Whatever was here before was burned till it was nothing but ash!"   
  
"What was here before it was burned?" asked Sasha cautiously.   
  
"Some kind of plant," said Polaris. They crowded around him where he was looking down at a vine that had escaped the flames. He reached out to touch it, but it suddenly moved and they all jumped back in alarm.   
  
"I suppose we should continue then," said Sasha, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward.   
  
The passageway sloped downward.   
  
"Do any of you hear something?" Rory whispered.   
  
Harry listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to coming from up ahead.   
  
"Yeah, I do," said Polaris softly. "It sounds kind of like wings."   
  
"Look—there's a light ahead, and something's moving."   
  
They came into a brightly lit chamber full of small, jewel-bright birds. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door. Polaris took a deep breath and ran forward, expecting the birds to attack him, but none of them did. He tried to open the door, but it was locked. He even tried Rory's famous Alohomora charm.   
  
He shrugged at them from across the chamber.   
  
"These can't be birds," said Rory. "They're… _glittering._"   
  
"They're _keys!_" Harry said suddenly. "Winged keys—look carefully. So that must mean…"   
  
"Look!" cried Sasha. "Broomsticks! We must have to try to catch the key that goes to the door!"   
  
"But _how?_ There are _hundreds_ of them!" Rory sighed.   
  
"We're looking for one that matches the handle—silver, big, and old-fashioned it looks like." Polaris said as he examined the lock on the door.   
  
Rory stayed on the ground beside the door while the other three each seized a broomstick and kicked off into the air, soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys.   
  
"That one!" Harry called to the others. "That big one—there—no, there—with the bright blue wings—the feathers are all crumpled on one side."   
  
"Polaris, you come at it from above—Sasha, stay below and stop it from going down—and I'll try and catch it. Right, NOW!"   
  
Polaris dived, Sasha rocketed upward, the key dodged them both, and Harry streaked after it; it sped toward the wall, Harry leaned forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand. Polaris, Sasha, and Rory's cheers echoed around the high chamber.   
  
He landed and rammed it into the lock, turning it—it worked and the key flew away looking particularly battered. He pulled the door open. The next chamber was so dark they couldn't see anything at all.   
  
There was a _thud_, a scream, and then the unmistakable sound of skin slapping against stone. Harry winced.   
  
"Rory, are you alright?"   
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just—"   
  
Light suddenly flooded the room to reveal a horrific sight. It looked as if an explosion had gone off. There was rubble of white and black stone everywhere and there was scorch marks on the chequered floor. Rory had tripped over one of the stone pieces and Harry now saw that she was not alright. Her ankle was pointing at an odd angle and her shin and palms were scraped from the fall. Polaris ran to her side.   
  
"Are you alright?"   
  
"Yes, I'm fine—"   
  
"You are _not_ fine. It looks like you've broken your ankle."   
  
"Well, I'll _be_ fine; is that better?"   
  
"Hey, don't snap at me! I'm only trying to help—"   
  
"Guys," said Sasha suddenly. "I know what this is." She was sanding into the middle of the chamber looking around. She gulped. "This used to be a chessboard. Looks like somebody got impatient, though."   
  
Harry sighed. "I guess there's nothing to do in this chamber then. Let's go—Rory, perhaps you should go back—"   
  
"Don't even think about it, Harry Potter," snapped Rory. "I'm going to be with you till the end—don't even think of trying to get rid of me."   
  
She grabbed onto Polaris's shoulder and heaved herself up. He put his arm around her to help her walk, though at first she resisted, she finally gave him a grateful smile. They walked past the white debris and finally reached another door. Sasha pushed it open.   
  
A disgusting smell filled their nostrils, making the four of them gag and pull their robes up over their noses. They saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll that was without a doubt dead. They hurried across this chamber and Harry pulled open the next door. Like the chess chamber, this one was in ruins as well.   
  
"Potion bottles," muttered Rory as she looked at the shattered glass that littered the floor with different colour liquid puddles.   
  
"Wonder what we had to do with those," whispered Polaris.   
  
They walked through a hallway and into the last chamber; there was no door. Lord Voldemort was already there, and he was with somebody—but it wasn't Snape. It was Quirrell.   
  
Voldemort turned toward them and his eyes rested on Harry. He grinned cruelly. "Harry Potter," he hissed, "how good it is to meet you at last." He must have seen Harry's confused face, because he let out a horrible cackle and said, "Did your parents never tell you? I suppose they didn't… They thought they could protect you forever… Seems they were wrong and you will die not knowing why." He raised his wand. "Good-bye… Harry Potter."   
  
Polaris let go of Rory and she crumpled to the ground without the support. He dived at Harry and pushed him out of the way as a stream of green light flew over their heads. They had barely crashed to the ground when he jumped to his feet again and was standing in front of Harry bravely.   
  
"If you want to kill Harry, you're going to have to kill me as well."   
  
Rory held out her hand to him and he pulled her to her feet. She leaned on him, pale and sweating from the pain, "And me."   
  
Sasha stepped forward, pale as well though for a different reason, "And me."   
  
Harry, shaken slightly, got to his feet behind his friends. Voldemort was smiling maliciously at the three of them. He twirled his wand in his hand. Harry had the sinking feeling that Voldemort was trying to decide who to kill first. He decided that he needed to keep him talking in order to get his mind off of killing his friends.   
  
"Why?" he asked. "Why do you want to kill me?"   
  
Voldemort ignored him and instead addressed Polaris. "Such loyalty… your father had it too... He turned his back on his heritage… but you still have a choice… Join me and help me get the Stone… and you will have everything you ever dreamed."   
  
"I don't think so," Polaris said coolly.   
  
"Don't be a fool," snarled Lord Voldemort. "Better save your own life and join me… or you'll meet the same end as so many before you… I can show you mercy… I can show your family mercy… all I ask is for you to hand over Harry Potter and your loyalty…"   
  
"NEVER!" Polaris shouted suddenly.   
  
Voldemort didn't answer. He turned on his heel and spoke to Professor Quirrell. "Have you figured out how this mirror works yet?"   
  
"No, Master."   
  
It was only then that they realized what was standing behind Quirrell and Voldemort. It was the Mirror of Erised. Voldemort walked around the mirror, and suddenly he smiled nastily.   
  
"Use the girl…"   
  
"Yes—of course—which one?"   
  
"The brunette…"   
  
Polaris's hold on Rory tightened as Professor Quirrell rounded on her.   
  
"Lupin—come here."   
  
"She can't walk," said Polaris at once. "I must go with her."   
  
Quirrell flicked his wand toward Rory and she gave a shriek of surprise as a violet light hit her ankle. She stumbled forward and fell face forward. Shakily, she got back to her feet where one of them was wrapped in white bandages though they could tell that it only dulled the pain instead of making it go away.   
  
"Come here," Quirrell repeated. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."   
  
Rory limped toward him.   
  
_I will lie,_ she thought desperately. _What I want most in the world at this moment is to find the Sorcerer's Stone, but I will lie about what I see. It will be simple._   
  
Quirrell moved close behind her. She saw her reflection, pale, sweaty, and scared-looking at first, but a moment later, the reflection smiled at her. It put its hand into its robe pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the Stone back in its pocket—and as it did so, Rory felt something heavy drop into her real pocket. Somehow—incredibly—_she'd gotten the Stone._   
  
"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. Lord Voldemort was also watching her curiously as well. "What do you see?"   
  
Rory took a deep breath. "I see myself standing next to my father under the full moon," she invented. "I-I found a cure for Lycanthrope."   
  
Quirrell cursed. "Get out of the way," he snapped. As Rory moved aside, she felt the Sorcerer's Stone bounce again her leg. Dare she make a break for it? But how would she warn the others?   
  
She turned back toward the others and mouthed 'Let's go', but she hadn't limped five paces before Voldemort's cold voice called after her.   
  
"She lies…"   
  
Rory shot a petrified look over her shoulder and she tried to run, but her hurt leg was making it impossible. A spell sailed over her head, missing her by centimetres, and she stumbled in shock from it. Polaris was standing beside her now and helping her get her footing correctly.   
  
"Lupin, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?"   
  
Voldemort held up his hand and silenced him. He began to walk toward the pair and Harry and Sasha ran up to join them.   
  
"Do you not see my just cause?" Lord Voldemort said. "A cause to purify the wizarding community of filth that shouldn't be allowed in… all I need are followers… those that will stay loyal to me… once I have the Sorcerer's Stone, I will be able to offer my followers so much more… I will have many more people on my side… but all I need is that Stone… Now… why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"   
  
He knew. Rory heard Polaris gasp beside him as she stumbled backwards.   
  
"It's too bad that you have to bribe people to follow you," said Sasha with more determination then she looked like she had. "It must mean that not many stand for your cause."   
  
Harry gaped at Sasha. What was she doing?   
  
"What would you know for my cause?" sneered Lord Voldemort. "You're nothing by a half-blood."   
  
Then it hit him. She was trying to distract him so that they could get away. He felt Rory lean against him and turned to see Polaris pushing her onto him. They gave him a curious look and he mouthed the word, 'Go.' Their eyes widened and they both shook their heads. A furious look came across Polaris's face and he pushed Harry roughly toward the exit and again mouthed, 'Go.'   
  
Rory and Harry shared a look before nodding. They quietly began to stumble out of the chamber.   
  
"I was commenting on your bribery. It sure sounds pathetic, in my opinion—"   
  
_SMACK!_   
  
The two of them wheeled around as they heard Sasha scream. The blond headed girl was on the floor of the chamber clutching her cheek as if she had just been burned, but it was Lord Voldemort's reaction that surprised them more. He was clutching the back of his hand and crying out in agony. When he finally pulled his hand away, they saw the back of his hand was blistering before their eyes.   
  
He howled in fury and looked straight at Harry and Rory. He suddenly came at them, neither of them able to move and yanked Rory away fiercely by her arm. She cried out in pain that neither Harry nor Polaris could see, but so did Lord Voldemort. Again, he pulled away, his palm blistering. Rory crumpled to the ground, clutching her arm, which wasn't blistering like Voldemort's hand but might as well have been with the pain she was showing.   
  
Polaris and Harry ran to her, but Voldemort stepped in front of them. His face was contorted in fury. He reached out his pale bony fingers and touched Polaris's cheek. Polaris jerked away as he cried out in pain and once again, Voldemort's fingers blistered before his eyes. Suddenly, he reached over with his other hand and cupped Harry's face tightly. He suddenly understood why everybody had cried out in pain.   
  
The moment Voldemort's fingers touched Harry's skin, a needle-sharp pain seared where the contact was. It felt as if he was being burned. He yelled, struggling with all his might.   
  
"What is this magic?" Lord Voldemort hissed.   
  
He let go of Harry's face, and he fell to the ground, barely conscious. Rory grabbed his right arm and Polaris grabbed his left and they began to drag him out of the chamber when Voldemort screeched, "Kill them, now!"   
  
Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but a voice suddenly rang out from behind him. "_Consopio!_" He swayed on the spot and then fell over. Sasha was standing behind him with her wand raised. "Thanks for teaching me that one, Rory," she said in a conversational voice.   
  
"Anytime," said Rory, trying to sound calm.   
  
Sasha pocketed her wand and ran up to them. She stood right behind Harry, whose head was still spinning but he slowly starting to get his sense back, and grabbed him by the shoulders before trying to pull him out of the chamber. A shadow loomed over them, and Harry looked up blearily to see Voldemort with his wand out.   
  
"_Avada Kedevra!_"   
  
"_NO!_"   
  
There was a blinding pain that spread through his whole body and he heard screaming, or perhaps he was screaming, and then he was falling down into blackness, down… down… down…   
  
Something red was hovering over him. Fire! He needed to get everybody out! He tried to sit up, but his limbs were too heavy. He blinked. It wasn't fire at all. It was a mane of red hair. How strange. He blinked again. The worried face of Lily Potter swam into view above him.   
  
"Oh thank Merlin!" she cried and threw her arms around him.   
  
Harry stared at her. His forehead was burning. Then he remembered. "Mum! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Mum, quick—"   
  
"Harry, calm down," said James Potter who was standing behind his wife with a worried expression on his face. "Quirrell does not have the Stone."   
  
"Then who does? Dad, I—"   
  
"Harry, shh!" said his mother soothingly as she messed with his hair. "It's okay; everything is okay."   
  
Harry swallowed, rubbed his aching forehead, and looked around him. He realized he must be in the hospital wing. Across from him, he saw Rory was awake with a swollen cheek and also being shushed by her mother. Beside Rory was Polaris, awake as well, trying to itch his neck but both of his parents had a firm grip on his hands. And beside Harry was Sasha, also awake, digging into a box of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum with a small bandage on her upper arm. All four of them were surrounded by candy.   
  
Harry sighed. "Everybody's okay?"   
  
"Okay as can be expected," said his mother shakily.   
  
He gave her a questioning look, but she didn't elaborate, so instead he asked her, "How long have I been in here?"   
  
"Three days. Polaris has been awake for nearly four hours; Sasha awoke about two hours ago; and Rory has been awake for only thirty minutes." James explained.   
  
"What is all of this?" asked Harry, gesturing to all of the candy that surrounded his bed.   
  
"Tokens from your friends and admirers," said a voice from the doorway. They turned to see Professor Dumbledore standing there, beaming at the four of them. "What happened down in the dungeons between the four of you, Professor Quirrell, and Lord Voldemort is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows."   
  
"Admirers?" repeated Rory in confusion. "Forgive me, professor, but I don't even know what happened down in the dungeons. What happened to the Stone? What happened to Quirrell and Voldemort? How did you know that we were down there in the first place? And—" She had opened her mouth to ask another question, but Professor Dumbledore had raised his hand asking for silence.   
  
"Very good question, Miss Lupin, I assure you, but please relax or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out." His eyes twinkled. "Now, as for your first question, the Stone. Lord Voldemort did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, although the four of you were doing very well on your own, I must say. Your second question is a little trickier, so we'll save that one for later. How did I know you were there? No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to see the spectacular finale—"   
  
"It was _you,_" Polaris said suddenly. "I _knew_ that somebody had shouted before everything went black, but I wasn't positive."   
  
Dumbledore nodded. "I feared it might be too late."   
  
"You nearly were," admitted Sasha, "I doubt we could have kept them off the Stone much longer—"   
  
"Not the Stone, you all—you were nearly killed. For one terrible moment, I thought I was too late. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed. Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best. They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then they will die." Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on the young Marauders' faces. "To one as young as you four, I'm sure it seems incredible. To the well-organized mind, however, death is but the next great adventure."   
  
Suddenly Harry looked up. He swallowed. "In the chamber, Voldemort said he wanted to kill me and that my parents," he shot them a furious look, "knew why, but never told me. What did he mean?"   
  
Lily and James looked at each other with panicked expressions upon their face. They both looked like they were going to speak when Dumbledore interrupted them. "That, my dear boy, is no longer a matter."   
  
The elder Potters' eyes widened. "It's not?"   
  
"No, it's not, which is why I need to see all of you—excluding you four—in my office as soon as possible. That is, unless any of you have more questions?"   
  
"Many, sir," said Rory slowly. "You never did answer about what happened to Quirrell and Voldemort, and I wanted to know how did I get the Stone out of the mirror?"   
  
"Ever persistent, aren't you?" Dumbledore chuckled. "Alas, I must ask you once more to wait for your first question before it is answer. Your second question was one of my more brilliant ideas. You see, only one who wanted to _find_ the Stone—find it, but not use it—would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking the Elixir of Life."   
  
"And her first question…?" asked Sasha hesitantly.   
  
Dumbledore sighed. "Quirrell is in Azkaban, and Voldemort is… He is gone."   
  
"Gone?" shrieked Rory.   
  
"As in dead?" Polaris cried.   
  
Even their parents seemed shocked by their revelation.   
  
"Not quite dead, no, but not alive either. He is a kind of spirit, I suppose, but he has no form. He will only have form when he finds a body to share. Not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. However, if he is delayed from returning to power again, and again, why, he may never return to power."   
  
There was a shocked silence.   
  
"But how did this happen, Albus?" whispered Rue.   
  
"That, I believe, only your children can answer."   
  
"We didn't do anything," Rory said at once. "I blacked out."   
  
The other nodded as well.   
  
"Ah, yes, but what was the last thing you remember before blacking out?"   
  
"Voldemort said a spell," Polaris said slowly, "and we were trying to help Harry out of the chamber because he was hurt."   
  
"Even though Voldemort said a spell, you stuck by Harry? You didn't leave him for your own safety?"   
  
"Of course not!" said Polaris, crossly. "He's my best mate; I'd never leave him like that."   
  
Rory and Sasha nodded.   
  
"True loyalty," said Dumbledore. "And you, Lily, what did you do when you saw the children's names go from 'School' to 'Mortal Peril' on that wonderful clock of yours?"   
  
"I did what I've done every other time that's happened, I called everybody over and we sat around the table. When it didn't change after nearly fifteen minutes, we grabbed each other's hands in comfort—and prayed." Lily explained.   
  
"And true love," concluded Dumbledore. "Those are the two things that banished Voldemort and saved your lives. Tell me, do any of you remember the spell that Voldemort cast?"   
  
Harry, Polaris, and Sasha shook their heads, but Rory cleared her throat nervously. "Er… I'm probably mistaken, but I thought—I thought he cast the Killing Curse," she mumbled.   
  
"Yes, indeed you are correct, Miss Lupin," said Dumbledore, but he was smiling, "and it was because of the love and loyalty that you all had for each other that you were able to survive it and rebound it on Voldemort. You may or may not have noticed—depending on how long you've been awake—that the four of you now have four handsome matching scars. Those are not ordinary scars. They are the scars you get when hit with a powerful dark curse. It is a souvenir of your survival."   
  
Harry looked down at his body looking for his scar. He heard his mother mutter something and saw that she had conjured a mirror. He looked in the mirror and slowly lifted the fringe from his forehead to reveal a lightning-bolt shaped scar. Harry looked up to see Rory frowning at an identical one on her right cheek. Polaris was still trying to scratch the one on the left side of his neck. Sasha was also frowning at the one on her left arm which had been covered by the bandage before.   
  
"Now, if the eight of you will come with me—the four of you should rest. No more questions now." He smiled at them all before turning and leaving with their parents in tow.   
  
The four of them made their way down to the end-of-the-year feast after it had started due to Madam Pomfrey's fussing. The Hall was decorated in Slytherin colours to celebrate them winning the house cup. When they walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly at once. They slipped into their usual seats between the other first years.   
  
Fortunately, Dumbledore arrived moments later.   
  
"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "As I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."   
  
A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table.   
  
"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account. I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes…   
  
"First—to Mr. Polaris Black…"   
  
Polaris whipped his head around so quickly that Harry was surprised that he didn't get whiplash.   
  
"…for unwavering loyalty when things got rough, I award Gryffindor house forty points."   
  
Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver.   
  
"Second—to Miss Rosalyn Lupin…"   
  
Rory's face went bright red as her eyes widened. She seemed to grip the table in anticipation, but her gaze never left her plate.   
  
"…for the use of her heart instead of her head in dire situations, I award Gryffindor house forty points."   
  
Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves.   
  
"Third—to Miss Sasha Pettigrew…"   
  
Sasha buried her face in her arms; Harry strongly suspected that she was about to burst into tears or already had.   
  
"…for quick-wit and strong determination, I award Gryffindor house forty points."   
  
The Gryffindors were jumping and cheering by now—they were a hundred and twenty points up.   
  
"Fourth—to Mr. Harry Potter…"   
  
The room was deadly quiet.   
  
"…for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house forty points."   
  
The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor was now tied with Slytherin. Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent.   
  
"There are all kinds of courage," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, bust just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."   
  
It sounded like something had exploded; the cheering was so loud from the Gryffindor table.   
  
"Which means," Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, for even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the downfall of Slytherin, "we need a little change of decoration."   
  
He clapped his hands and instantly the green and silver hangings became scarlet and gold. Gryffindor had won the house cup.   
  
The exam results eventually turned up. Rory and Hermione tied in every subject for the best grades in the year except in Transfiguration and Potions where their other scores made them tied. Both Harry and Polaris had passed with good marks. Even Neville and Sasha scraped though, their good classes (Herbology and Charms) making up their abysmal classes (Potions and History).   
  
All too soon they were packing their bags and boarding the train to head to Kings Cross. People jostled them as they moved forward toward the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called:   
  
"Bye, Harry!"   
  
"See you, Lupin!"   
  
"Are we famous or something, now?" asked Sasha, annoyed.   
  
"Not where we're going; for that I'm grateful," said Polaris.   
  
Harry, Polaris, and Sasha passed through the gateway together and had to wait for Rory. As they did, Harry looked up to see a redhead with chestnut brown eyes and freckles. He smiled at her. She smiled shyly back. Harry brought a hand up and waved dazedly at her just as Rory came through with Ron and Hermione.   
  
Ron walked over to the redhead and hugged her, and that's when it hit him. The redhead girl was Ginny Weasley, his younger sister, but he didn't care. She was waving back at him, blushing slightly.   
  
"Er… I think we've lost him," Rory was saying behind him to Polaris.   
  
"Yes, he's been staring at her for five minutes. I think he's entranced!" he sighed as he saw his fathers walk up to them.   
  
They gave Harry, who still had a goofy grin on his face, a weird look. James asked, "What's with Harry?"   
  
"He took one look at Ron's little sister and fell in _love,_" said Sasha, giggling.   
  
The men followed Harry's gaze to the redheaded witch who was being dragged away by her mother now and grinned. Sirius said, "What is it with redheads and the Potter men?"   
  
"They're fetching, I tell you!"   
  
"Polaris," said Remus, grinning, "I think you better break him out of the spell before his face freezes like that."   
  
"Sure can do!" Polaris said, before whopping Harry in the back of the head hard. "Oi! Wake up!"   
  
"Ouch! What was that for?" Harry asked as the others laughed. 


End file.
